


A Group Of Crows Is Called A Murder

by BeefyBokuto



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Borderline crack, Comedy, Death, Face-Fucking, Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Horror, M/M, Mystery, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Who am I kidding this is a total acid trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:17:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeefyBokuto/pseuds/BeefyBokuto
Summary: Fifteen gay volleyball boys are trapped in a haunted house together with some people they like, and some not so much. Through all the chaos, love blossoms, shit happens, and one person decides to turn against the rest of the group...
The rom-com murder mystery no one asked for but I made anyways.
Updates sporadically





	1. Move Bitch, Get Out The Way!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a wild ride and a wild mess... good luck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coach Ukai needs to have his driver’s license revoked.

“Holy hell.” 

That was the only phrase that could summarize what went down during those cruel, rainy nights…

* * *

School was finally over, which meant it was time for everyone to dick around for the summer. The Karasuno volleyball team was hyped to go to a practice tournament in Tokyo with a few other team members from Aoba Johsai, Fukurodani, and Nekoma. At least that was what was supposed to happen until shit got wild.

“What a beautiful morning for a road trip!” Coach Ukai exclaimed, stepping towards the large bus Takeda had rented earlier in the week. Hinata looked up only to see dark, menacing clouds lacing the sky. It looked like the rainstorm of the century was about to burst out of those cumulonimbus clouds at any given second. The sight reminded Hinata of his disastrous bladder control.

“Uhh Ukai-kun, I’m not sure if it’s safe to drive the kids out in this weather...” the meek sensei commented, following Hinata’s gaze upwards towards the sky that oozed death.

The coach waved him off as he lit up a fat blunt, jumping into the driver’s seat to kick his feet up on the dash. “Relax, I checked the forecast for Tokyo and it said the weather would be perfect. Everybody get i-...” Ukai coughed his lungs out mid-sentence, his eyes already pink from blazing up. In the back, Nishinoya and Tanaka started shouting about how they had the coolest coach and couldn’t wait to hotbox. 

After about five more minutes of wheezing, team Karasuno lined up one by one to head into the bus. Sugawara sat next to Daichi of course; the mom and dad crow huddled together near the back to keep watch over their idiotic children. Asahi, being the giant third wheel he was, opted for a window seat in the same row where he could watch his life flash before his eyes. Hinata and Kageyama already started fist fighting over who would get the window seat in the middle section. Ennoshita and the two other nobodies never made it on the bus, so tough shit. 

Grabbing the front row seats behind coach Ukai, both Tanaka and Nishinoya enthusiastically inhaled as much smoke as they could into their nostrils before the trip started. Tsukishima seated himself in the very back row, discretely ordering a Stegosaurus figurine over eBay on his phone. The last team member stood at the front of the rowdy bus; Yamaguchi’s eyes darted around until they found a familiar tuft of blonde hair and dark-rimmed glasses. With a smile on his face, Yamagucci strode down the walkway littered with various soda cans and empty chip bags, courtesy of Nishinoya and Tanaka’s violent munchies.

“U-um, may I sit here?” the freckled first year managed to mumble out. The blonde merely replied with the usual “shut up Yamaguchi” as he retreated his phone into a duffle bag that was covered in T-rexes. “Gomen Tsukki!” Yamaguchi blurted out of habit as he made his way back to the front. He plopped down next to the two wannabe stoners, reaching for something to eat his feelings with, only to get his hand slapped away.

Just as Ukai was about to start the ignition, a loud “WAIT!” could be heard in the distance. Speeding towards them at 3000 mph was a shitty minivan containing Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, Akaashi, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa. They had just finished group roasting Ushijima at Shiratorizawa when Kenma got a text from Hinata to join them on their road trip back to Tokyo for practice matches. Since it was so last minute, Kuroo hot-wired Ushijima’s mom’s minivan to get the group there on time, inadvertently adding more salt to injury. Bokuto screeched like the owl he was while Akaashi clasped his hands together, quietly mumbling a rushed prayer. Kuroo gritted his teeth and stomped on the brakes, but it was a tad bit too late. In a last ditch effort he turned the steering wheel as hard as he could and yelled for everyone to jump!

The minivan crashed into Karasuno’s gym barely grazing past the back of the bus by .0005 cm. Everyone miraculously survived, with Kenma suffering the most injuries from shielding his precious pink 3DS. “Who the fuck are these people?” Ukai asked, eyes redder than boiled hotdogs. But if he was gonna be real with himself, he had no fucks left to give after smoking three blunts, so he gestured for the new group to get on. Takeda started bitching about property damage for a million years, so Ukai left his ass behind to deal with the mess he just loved talking about. The engine finally started up as everyone watched Takeda’s pissy silhouette quickly disappear into the distance. 

* * *

An hour into the commute, half of the bus was in awe at how the blazed up coach could still function on the highway while the other half were asleep. It was misty outside, the kind that glazes over the sun and dims out the light in the most peculiar way. Daichi was looking out the window to check for incoming cop cars while gently stroking the hair of his vice captain, who was asleep and curled in his chest. Both Hinata and Kageyama fell asleep on each other’s shoulders, having been tired out by their recent quarrel. Iwaizumi and Oikawa also dozed off together, occasionally sleep talking. “Iwa-chan rub my back...” Oikawa murmured in his sleep, Iwaizumi responded sleepily with a “Shut up Trashykawa...” Kuroo watched Kenma play Pokemon on his PSP while occasionally glancing back at a certain sleeping blonde. Akaashi’s gaze was fixed on the window, wondering what would become of the dark clouds looming over them while Bokuto was snoring blissfully on his lap. The peaceful quiet was a welcome change from the chaotic morning the group had just experienced. 

All had seemed well until a speedy maroon car cut off the bus. Without a second to spare, Ukai swerved out the way and rolled down the windows yelling, “I’M DOING 100 ON THE HIGHWAY, SO IF YOU DO THE SPEED LIMIT GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!! I’m DUI hardly ever caught sober, and you bout’ to get ran the fuck OVER”. The other driver wasted no time either, quickly rolling down their own window to pop their head out. Kenma, who usually didn’t display any human emotions, widened his eyes to the size of plates while tugging at Kuroo’s sleeve to get his attention. Following Kenma’s finger to the person of interest, Kuroo almost shat himself.

There in all his glory was the stoic ace of Shiratorizawa, clumsily trying to keep the steering wheel straight as he kept his head turned around. “I know you stole my momma’s boo-boo ass minivan you jack holes.” And with that he stepped on his brakes with the strength of a Super Saiyan, crashing the back bumper of his car into Karasuno’s unfortunate bus. Cursing with the most colorful vocabulary, Ukai swerved enough to where the bus didn’t completely flip over as it rapidly rolled off the ledge of the bridge. The now screaming bus drifted down a slanted hill; dirt flew everywhere when it finally halted at the bottom. 

Many groans could be heard throughout the now messy interior of the crowded bus. The fact that they’ve all barely escaped death twice in the same day was not lost on them. With a deep sigh, the coach called for everyone to get out the abused bus, stressed by how set back their schedule was from this whole ordeal. Scattering to the side, the dismayed volleyball players made room for Ukai to check up on the bus. The blonde twenty-six year old circled the mobile for a whopping eleven seconds before he declared that the bus was a one way ticket to hell. 

“I’ll go ahead and take this to a mechanic shop myself. Daichi and Suga are in charge... so if anyone dies, it’s on them.” The last part was whispered quickly as the sleazy coach climbed back into the driver’s seat. 

“I’ll be back in two hours!” Ukai called out from the window as the bus revved away with his untrustworthy ass in tow.

 

\---- Eight Hours Later ---- 

 

The moon was out and Hinata had ran behind the bushes about twenty times already due to godawful bladder control. Kenma was playing Nintendogs for the fifth consecutive hour because he was a lowkey furry. His face was illuminated by the 3DS’ glow while dark rings developed under his cat-like eyes. Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi managed to keep themselves occupied by playing strip goldfish. Strip poker was out of the question since the rules were too complex for Fukurodani’s captain. Bokuto ended up in his boxers about 100% of the time, to which Akaashi did not mind at all; in fact, he enjoyed tracing his grey-blue eyes over the owl captain’s defined abs. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi laid under a nearby tree together, each with one earphone, enjoying the music to each other’s company. A couple feet from them, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were sprawled out on the grass having a deep conversation about how they thought that if aliens existed, they would be like the ones in the Toy Story movies; green, humble, and eternally grateful.

“Damn, it’s getting freakin’ chilly!” Tanaka barked out as he shivered with the grace of a newborn giraffe. As if on cue, cool rain droplets started to fall down onto the unsuspecting crowd. Suga immediately digged into his bag for his phone, flipping through the contacts until he saw the word “Coach”. The silver-haired setter seriously considered changing the contact name to something more fitting, such as “assclown”. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Suga: Ukai-san where are you? It’s getting really late and a drizzle has started.

Coach: new phone who dis

Suga: We’re getting soaked, where tf are you?!

Coach: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Suga: …..

Coach: $30 for a lapdance, $50 for a blow, $100 if u wanna go all the way hunty xoxo

Suga: Ukai, what?? You’d better not be at a STRIP CLUB!!

Coach: Whoz ukai? dis b lecstacy, da baddest bitch in da clubbb

That was the last straw. Suga dialed Ukai’s number so fast that his fingers became a blur, his usually gentle face was scrunched up and fuming. Someone picked up and loud yelling could be heard in the background along with blaring trap music. “Ayeeeeee…” Coach Ukai managed to slur out. “Where are you?! That sounds NOTHING like a mechanic shop!!” Suga screamed, clearly enraged. “Mayneeee shit is lit Suga, this strip club got me so faded,” Ukai paused for a bit to pay Lecstacy for her services.

“At least have the decency to book us hotel rooms if you’re not coming back!” 

Ukai cackled like a madman. “You think I even got the funds for that? You know my ass works at the family convenience store. I pick tea leaves when the sun rises and coach a high school volleyball team when the sun sets!! I can barely afford my electricity bill. Just find somewhere to bunk for the night… and by the way, I only checked the weather for the red light district area, looks like y’all are going to have a total shitstorm hahahaha!!!” With that the line was dropped.

Exasperated, Suga trotted back to his hubby Daichi to relay the bad news. Dadchi clapped his hands together loudly to get everyone’s attention. His face darkened and a forced smile was plastered on his face as he explained to the group how much of a degenerate their coach really was. He pointed his fingers above the hills; there was a local road just up ahead if they were willing to make the trek, maybe there would even be some kind strangers that would let them stay the night. However, to the Karasuno captain’s appall, there was not a soul to be seen when they managed to make it up. Only one raggedy, three-story house sat behind a street post named “Chance Ball Lane”. The rain started pouring down even harder, prompting the disheveled group to run faster towards the seemingly vacant house. “Seemingly vacant” because as Tanaka grabbed the front door’s knob, he felt something warm and wet; a familiar metallic scent wafted through his nose.

“Awwww HELL NAW!”


	2. Wine & Dine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah you got some silverware, but really are you eating tho?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this was written under the influence...of wine

Tanaka stumbled away from the decrepit door, grasping his right hand shakily. “Yep, that’s definitely blood,” Nishinoya deadpanned. At this point, Asahi’s soul had already fled his burly body. As if the fresh blood wasn’t bad enough, the immediate surrounding made the situation that much more nerve-racking. Many spirit wards were taped all over the front, each separate one looking like it came from a different era. All the windows seemed to be sealed off with tattered planks and the roof was littered with gaping holes. The shabbiness of the building itself would make one beg to stay in a rat-infested motel with their bitchy mother-in-law. Stepping back a bit, Kageyama heard a crunching noise. As he lifted his foot, he could spot what seemed to be small, white grains stuck within the crevices of his shoe. “Umm..why is there salt on the floor?” Everyone looked down to see a suspiciously straight line of salt poured right in front of the doorsteps. 

“Guaaaah!! Look at these cool designs on the house!” Hinata beamed as he excitedly pointed at the side of the house. Turning their heads, the group saw what looked to be clumps of pentagrams made up of dried blood on the weathered looking wood. “WE’RE GOING TO DIE!!” Asahi cried like the six foot baby he was. 

During the commotion, Iwaizumi’s attention was pulled towards an opened floorboard; he reached in to find a crude voodoo doll with brown, swayed hair and a white volleyball jersey pulled over it. Upon closer inspection, Aoba’s ace realized there was a number “1” on the back. Iwaizumi poked the small doll gently on the booty and quickly glanced at Oikawa. Within seconds, he noticed Oikawa scratching his ass and looking behind him in confusion. Before Aoba’s ace could even comment on anything, Oikawa yanked the doll from his hands and kicked it off into the horizon, giving off a small yelp when he felt a sharp pain on his own rear end. 

Although everything about this house was screaming “cursed”, Bokuto decided to herd everyone in because his hair was more important than everyone’s safety. No one even flinched when the aged, gothic door slammed shut behind them, except for Asahi, who chose to shriek like a banshee. The group had gotten themselves into knee-deep shit, but most of them couldn’t seem to care less.

With newfound fear, Yamaguchi pulled out his phone to text Ukai their new location, only to find that there was no service in the house. This must’ve been due to the rain-turned-tsunami that was currently flooding the entirety of the unfortunate area. 

Being three stories with an attic and a basement to boot, the size of the house was pretty impressive. Beyond the foyer, giant stairs could be seen, branching off into two other staircases that spiraled into the dark depths above. A classic crystal chandelier could be seen hanging all the way from the top floor, vintage wallpaper in the foyer were tattered and peeling at the edges. Several holes peeked through the walls allowing the wind to gust in, leaving the group not much warmer than outside. Musty was the perfect word to describe the atmosphere within this hell hole. 

Just as Ukai had predicted, the harsh rain transformed into a full-blown hurricane. Raindrops turned into a shower of bullets, colliding with the feeble wooden boards on the roof. The trees were beginning to bend at the intense force of the wind. It was obvious that no one could leave until the weather eased up, not unless they wanted to be blown all the way to the Pacific Ocean.

Daichi turned around to the view of fourteen equally horrified faces, sporting a contorted look of his own. Hinata’s stomach chose that moment to let out a distressed growl, the obscene noise resonating off the battered walls. It’s been hours since any of them had a decent meal.

“Well since it looks like we’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” Daichi gestured towards the five tornadoes that manifested from outside the windows, “We might as well get dinner started!”

* * *

It was a miracle that they even made it to the dining area, considering that lighting was almost nonexistent. An earlier attempt to flip on a light switch only proved to them that the house had no running electricity in it. The group had resorted to using Kenma’s PSP as a flashlight, after a brief struggle against the unruly setter, as it wasn’t practical to waste anymore of their cell phone batteries. Luckily, Oikawa had stumbled upon several candlesticks within one of the opened cabinets in the kitchen area. Tanaka pulled out his lighter and lit all the candles up in one fluid motion.

The only ones with any real kitchen experience were Iwaizumi and Sugawara, so naturally they were burdened with the task of preparing dinner for their incompetent teammates. God forbid Nishinoya or Hinata handling anything sharper than blunt scissors. Kuroo took it upon himself to be that night’s waiter, pulling out a small notepad and a pen he had stolen from Planned Parenthood.

The ensemble began to split off into sub-groups as there was limited space at the kitchen and dining table. Bokuto made a big fuss about reserving the dining room just for him and Akaashi, so everyone just accepted it because no one wanted to eat with his loud ass anyways. Crowded around the living room table was Kageyama, Asahi, Nishinoya, and Tanaka. On the opposite side of the same room, Hinata, Kenma, and yamaGucci Mane sat against the wall, somehow satisfied with eating on the floor. Tsukishima followed Iwaizumi and Suga into the kitchen, staking claims on the counter for himself. (Looks like lonely boy has a sharing problem, xoxo Gossip Girl.)

Bokuto approached Iwaizumi with shifty eyes and pulled him off to the side. “Hey bro… this is my first time eating with Akaashi without our teammates, I want it to be a lil’ special if you know what I mean…” Bokuto quickly slipped a stick of beef jerky into Iwa’s shirt pocket. Iwaizumi glanced around shadily and gave Fukurodani’s Ace a nod of agreement before returning back to the kitchen. 

“Alright, let’s see what you guys got.” Iwaizumi stated towards the group, slightly unnerved by the colossal size of Nishinoya’s duffel bag.

Everyone agreed to combine all the food they had in their volleyball bags to ration it out like the civil young men that they were. Unfortunately, not all of the hungry teens were smart enough to bring food with them.

The only edible thing in Hinata’s bag was candy from last Halloween. What a surprise. Kageyama slowly dragged out one onigiri from his bag, making sure to hide the other ten underneath his volleyball shorts. With the pinkest shade of blush blooming upon his cheeks, Asahi pulled out his mina saikō arigatō ka-ka-ka-kawaii Hello Kitty bento box. Tsukki said he’d only brought his volleyball necessities, to which Kuroo eyed Tsukishima and squinted with skepticism. He approached the taller blonde and inspected his expression, looking for any trace of deceit on Tsukki’s face.

“You really didn’t bring anything else? I’m sure someone as smart as you would have been better prepared…” Kuroo said with suspicion in his voice.

“How was I supposed to know we would all be stranded in the middle of the night because our corrupt coach decided to ditch us for a strip club of all places? Actually scratch that thought, I should’ve seen this coming from miles away.”

The blonde only got a roll of eyes in response. Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed together, his growing annoyance becoming even more apparent on his face. “Kuroo, even if I did bring anything, I’d rather starve than share anything with you.” the blonde said in a curt manner. With lightning fast movements, Kuroo slipped his hands into the pockets of the younger blocker’s jacket and triumphantly held a bag into the air.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Kuroo wiggled the deluxe sized bag of dinosaur gummies teasingly in the air for everyone to see.

“Tch…..” Tsukishima muttered under his breath.

As they continued to go through the bags one by one, no one was shocked that Oikawa had nothing but hair products and expensive foreign face lotions. The next bag revealed a….baseball bat? The owner of that bag was none other than Seijoh’s Ace. Kenma softly asked “You do know you’re a volleyball player right?”. Iwaizumi became flustered and hastily opened Bokuto’s bag which had absolutely nothing in it except a dust mite or two. 

“Bokuto, why the fuck are you carrying a bag full of nothing?!” Tanaka asked dumbfoundedly.

“Oh shit! No wonder my bag was so light!!” Bokuto exclaimed as he laughed at his own foolishness. 

Akaashi opened his own bag revealing two sandwiches, hygienic material, and spare clothes for not only him, but Bokuto too.

Yamaguchi only brought a few water bottles, while Tanaka brought illegal substances to no one's surprise. Within Daichi’s bag, old men-like food could be found, such as dried squid. Suga had a bottle of red wine and Kenma had animal crackers. Kuroo unzipped his bag to reveal a box of condoms, earning him concerned looks from the group.

Nishinoya’s bag was nearly triple the size of everyone else's baggage. Everyone gathered around in anticipation wondering what on earth the libero was carrying all day. By the looks of it, it could have been a dead body or a rocket launcher. Nishinoya slowly unzipped his belongings, building the tension and suspense around the room. The audience lurched forward eager to see what was in store. Speeding things along, Nishinoya abruptly pulled his bag open with a blinding grin on his face and left everyone with their jaws dropped to the floor.

This psycho only brought an insane quantity of two things: Hot Pockets and cans of Chef Boyardee’s Raviolis. It was a good thing that he had brought enough food to let them survive through a Dust Bowl, but Jesus Christ that had nothing to do with volleyball. Half of these dumbasses didn’t even pack anything appropriate for the training camp in Tokyo.

* * *

“Hongh hongh hongh, oui-oui.” Kuroo twirled one of the ends of his fake mustache with his Planned Parenthood pen.

“Kuroo, you can’t go around saying shit like that!” Daichi held two fingers at the bridge of his nose. “Look, can you just take my order already?”

“Oui monsieur, may I suggest the omelette du fromage, or maybe baguettes?”

“Kuroo.”

“¿¿Perhaps some ESCARGOT??!!”

“KUROO.”

“Okay fine, we didn’t have snails anyways.”

Tanaka almost died of starvation from listening to their conversation, the only thing staving his hunger being a soggy couch pillow currently being clamped down between his teeth. Hinata was not so lucky, his limp body hung over Kenma’s lap like a piece of raw bacon as the latter continued to mash buttons on his 3DS; Kageyama narrowed his eyes at this.

After a full hour of rampant trolling, Kuroo managed to scribble down the malnourished flock’s orders, although half of them were wrong. The makeshift waiter sauntered over to the kitchen counter to take the remaining blonde’s order.

“What would you like tonight sweet cheeks? May I recommen-... ” 

“Please don’t.”

“-...something tall, dark, and handsome?” Kuroo asked as he feathered the fake mustache over Tsukki’s taut lips, wiggling an eyebrow encouragingly.

“I’ve lost my appetite already.”

Snatching the notepad out of Kuroo’s hand, Suga ushered the horny troublemaker out of the kitchen, to which Tsukishima was grateful for. It was finally time to start cooking. Iwaizumi lit up the old-school stove with some matches as Suga piled the ingredients onto the counter. They didn’t have much to work from, but they’ll be damned if they let a couple of expired Halloween candy stump them.

* * *

“IWA-CHAN!! Can I try cooking? I do it sometimes for my nephew, so I know what I’m doing.” Oikawa pursed his glossy lips and spoke in a higher pitched voice. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and retorted “Making cereal and milk isn’t cooking, Headass-kawa.” Oikawa unleashed his “trump card” and gave Iwaizumi the biggest, saddest puppy eyes that anyone has ever seen. Normally the effect would be for people to take pity on Oinkywa and succumb to all his demands; the outcome was still the same when it came to Seijoh’s ace, the only difference was that Iwa was totally disgusted by this look and did whatever Oikawa wanted to make him stop pulling such a repugnant face.

-

-

 _Three minutes._

It took three minutes for Oikawa to set off a fire in the kitchen. Iwaizumi pushed the fluffy-haired idiot out of the way with his hunky-meaty-man-arms, while Suga followed behind closely and poured some water over the relatively small flame (luckily there was running water in this sad excuse of a house). Iwaizumi groaned and shot a death glare at his good-for-nothing captain. “Shittykawa… just sit at the kitchen table. Don’t touch anything. Don’t move. Don’t blink. Don’t even breathe.” Oikawa quickly scurried to the kitchen table holding his breath, knowing full and well the wrath of Iwaizumi.

* * *

Darting as fast as he could to the closest window, Asahi punched through the glass with his bare fists as he proceeded to heave all the contents of his stomach out onto the patio. Tanaka shoved the ace aside as he too started to retch out his innards. Whatever Nishinoya ordered was nothing short of an abomination. Tiny stegosaurus and pterodactyl gummies were fused together into the tomato mess of the heated raviolis, their little dinosaur faces distorted into pained expressions as the red sauce continued to melt them even further. Tsukishima almost gagged from the sight. Vacuuming the muck off his plate face-first, Nishinoya reached a hand out to grab Kuroo by the shirt, but not before he licked each and every one of his fingers clean.

“Awww yeahhhh, that hit the spot, send my compliments to the chef!” Nishinoya commended as he kissed both his index finger and thumb simultaneously.

Kenma, Hinata, and Yamaguchi enjoyed some rice and seaweed laver together, chuckling lightly every now and then in their conversation; Yamaguchi’s eyes clouding over as any conversation he partook in without Tsukki was jaded. Kenma didn’t talk often since he was a furry of few words, seemingly making every word he spoke dramatically more significant. As they were chewing on their grub, Kenma glanced over at Hinata, noticing bits and pieces of rice stuck to his bottom lip. 

“Shouyou.” Kenma quietly said as Hinata turned towards the quiet setter, slightly tilting his head in confusion. “You have something on your lips.” Without another word Kenma grabbed his napkin and wiped the amber eyed blocker’s lower lip. This surprised Hinata, because even more rare than Kenma talking to anyone was Kenma touching someone. Hinata’s face was heating up as he quickly fixed his eyes on the floorboards and thanked Kenma while rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Two blood-shot eyes belonging to a certain raven-haired setter bore holes into Kenma’s frail figure. Kageyama had witnessed the entire display of intimacy and was currently PMSing about it. “Kenma-boke...” He whispered menacingly, shoving two more onigiris into his mouth to which Tanaka started to protest.

“What the hell man, I thought you said you only had one onigiri, you lying ass-..” Kageyama shoved his third hidden onigiri into Tanaka’s mouth.

* * *

Suga seated himself across the table from Daichi in the kitchen, stretching his arms out and relaxing after cooking up dinner for fifteen people. Although their predicament was pretty scummy, the atmosphere in the house was much more lively now that everyone was fed. Daichi knew that Suga’s efforts were often overlooked and underappreciated, so he wanted nothing more than to let his lovely vice captain let loose a bit.

“Koushi, you put in a lot of work feeding the kids. I think you deserve to kick back a little. I’ll go get that bottle of wine you had in your bag.” Daichi said as he got up from the table and made his way towards the pile of duffel bags in the living room.

After digging out Suga’s bag from the pile, he unzipped it and rather than finding one bottle of wine, he found about five. Disregarding the fact that Suga may potentially be an alcoholic, he grabbed one and started back to the kitchen. Daichi stopped at the cupboard and luckily found two wine glasses before settling in his seat across from Suga. The silver haired setter took the bottle and opened it with a pop, pouring a perfect amount of the burgundy liquid into Daichi’s glass.

“Let me pour your glass for you too.” Daichi said as he gazed at the beautiful man in front of him with a dreamy expression. Suga giggled and covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. Daichi couldn’t understand what was so funny, but it didn’t matter because Suga looked absolutely adorable sitting across the table from him laughing with ease. Once the laughing became quiet chuckles, Suga grabbed the mostly full bottle and said “There’s no need for that, Daichi.” Within moments Suga chugged the rest of the wine down in one go as Daichi gaped in complete shock.

* * *

The owl-haired ace twiddled around with his thumbs as he waited for his “specialty” order. Bokuto could hardly believe that he was about to have dinner with Akaashi, let alone have a one-on-one conversation with the gorgeous setter. He pinched himself for good measure, although it was a bit too hard as he thumped his knee under the table from the sharp pain. Akaashi’s glass of water tipped over from the abrupt movement, spilling right onto his slacks, his face completely devoid of any emotions.

_‘Ahhh shit! Play it cool Bokuto…!!’_

“S-sorry Akaashi! Let me get that for you!” Bokuto circled around the large table with a cloth in hand, but he bumped the edge in his panicked state, knocking over his own glass of water. A second steady stream of water rushed down the tablecloth and onto Akaashi.

_‘NOOOOOooooo!’_

The spiker frantically dabbed at Akaashi’s pants, while the latter just sat there as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The waiter chose this moment to waltz in, catching a flustered Bokuto off guard. Kuroo’s eyes travelled down to where Bokuto’s clothed hand connected with Akaashi’s crotch.

“HAH! And Suga called me the horny troublemaker.” Kuroo stated as a matter of fact, before setting down a silver tray with a cover on it. Bokuto was redder than the bottom of Louboutin heels as he made his way back to his seat, the cloth long forgotten over the setter’s pants. Akaashi looked almost disappointed.

“Bon appetit ya nasties!” Rubbing his mustache, Kuroo uncovered the tray to reveal a dead ten-pound raccoon.

Both Bokuto and Kuroo screamed as Akaashi covered his sensitive ears. Fukurodani’s ace pushed himself from the table as he marched out of the dining room and across the living room. All eyes were on Bokuto as he stomped into the kitchen and slammed Iwaizumi down onto the counter Tsukishima was sitting at. Iwa’s bulky arm knocked the tall blonde’s salad to the side from the sharp impact.

“Iwa, bro, why you gotta do me dirty like this… I gave you beef jerky!” 

“Um I’m literally sitting right here.” Tsukki replied to deaf ears.

“Tonight was supposed to be something special! So I want you to tell me why Akaashi is sitting out there staring at a dead RACCOON!!”

Iwaizumi shoved emo-mode Bokuto off of him, straightening out his shirt in the process. 

“Alright, ALRIGHT! Trashykawa kept insisting that we have dinner together, so to shut him up, I kinda let Yamaguchi deal with your dish… which turned out to be a fucking mess as I can see.” The blonde in between the two nudged his glasses up with a smirk, both impressed and confused at how Yamaguchi had managed to kill and dismantle a ten-pound raccoon in the first place.

As the bickering continued, one plastered Suga wobbled his way into the overcrowded kitchen, a concerned Daichi following suit. “Don’t warry Bohuto-san, I gotchuuuu.” He slurred out before hunching over Tsukki’s head from his imbalance, both hands grabbing onto the edge of the counter. Tsukki wondered what he had done in his past life to rack up this unholy amount of bad luck. “HeHEHehe, I’ll make this a realllllll speshow dinnurr for the twos of ya.” With that, everyone asides from the silver-haired setter departed from the room, as a drunk Suga and a sharp kitchen knife do not make for a good equation.

* * *

Bokuto’s rosy cheeks were numb to the touch and whenever he tried to stand up, he felt like he was going to float away on clouds. Suga really outdid himself with dinner, serving up some fancy grilled salmon, although there was a really strong aftertaste to it. Halfway through the meal, Bokuto had found it strangely a lot easier to talk to Akaashi. He could feel himself loosening up even more at every passing minute, like a constricted tie finally coming undone at the end of a busy day at the office.

“Heyyy heyyy heyyyyy, Ackosheee~! I feel kinda weird haha, but a goooood kinda weird!” Bokuto remarked to an extremely blurry vision of the wavy-haired setter, suddenly finding his palms very interesting.

“Bokuto-san, I think we might be drunk.” Even though Akaashi was shit-faced, he managed to do what his senior couldn’t; form coherent sentences.

“Ohhhh you lightweights! I only put in two bottles!” Suga said with the daintiest of smiles, earning another incredulous look from Dadchi. By the end of the night, both of them were going to have a long conversation in private concerning drinking problems, the team captain would make sure of it. 

Dinner ended with Bokuto passing out on the couch for a good thirty minutes, exhausted from both the unorthodox schedule and near alcohol poisoning. Regardless of whether their food was delicious or disgusting, everyone’s hunger was sated in one way or the other. After the loud ace groggily awoke from a nightmare about his nads transforming into volleyballs, the group moved back towards the foyer for their next plan of action; figure out where in the hell fifteen people were going to sleep.

* * *

The only libero in the group was already leaping up the first flight of stairs, eager to stake out the least disgusting room in the pitiful shack of a house. That plan failed quickly since every room was equally as awful as the next. Frowning, Nishinoya trudged back down to the group in the entrance hall. “So there’s good news and bad news, which do you guys wanna hear first?”

“Give us the good,” Daichi responded curtly, not really wanting to be even more depressed than he already was at the moment. Suga wrapped his fingers around one of his hands tightly, obviously feeling the same way. 

“There’s five rooms including the attic and a master bedroom on this floor! Two bedrooms are on the second floor, and I saw a big one on the third floor along with a communal bathroom!! I didn't check all of the rooms though.”

Both Oikawa and Sugawara’s ears perked up at the mention of a master bedroom. Grabbing their respective partners, they sprinted like animals in search of the master bedroom, ready to fight it out like real housewives of Atlanta. The two power couples disappeared down the first corridor leaving the rest in the dust.

Tanaka gave a defeated sigh. “Dude, five rooms for fifteen people.. that means some of us are gonna have to sleep out in places like the living room if we’re all gonna try to fit.”

“The bathtub is mine.” No one even bothered to question Kenma’s bizarre decision, all secretly happy that there was a better chance of them snatching another room. Kuroo face-palmed at his teammate.

“What’s the bad news anyways?” Akaashi asked off-handedly, glancing at some dusty paintings that might’ve reverted into dust had he actually touched them.

“Well...uhh...someone’s probably gonna have to sleep in the boiler room.” Everyone groaned in unison, throwing their hands up into the musty air.

* * *

Some straws were pulled out of Kageyama’s duffel bag; when asked about it, he simply replied that they were his back-up yogurt and milk straws. The setter marked one straw at the bottom with a black sharpie. They decided that whoever was unfortunate enough to pull the marked one would be sleeping in the basement. Beads of sweat dripped down all of their foreheads as each person grabbed a straw out of Nishinoya’s hands. 

“HEY HEY HEY!” Bokuto exclaimed, holding out his safe straw with a dumb grin on his face. He hooted even louder when he discovered that Akaashi was also safe, the latter slapping a hand over his mouth.

Kageyama kept a straight face, but his wobbling, sweaty palms gave away his true emotions. After what seemed like a millennium to him, he mustered up the courage to check that the bottom of his straw was also blank. “K-knife... nuff... nice.”

Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Nishinoya were also graced by lady luck that night, each choosing safe straws too.

It was just down to Kuroo, Asahi, Hinata, and Tanaka now; all four were sweating bullets down their backs. “SHIT!!” Nekoma’s captain shouted as he made a show to bang his fists onto the grimy floor, the other three contestants feeling their spirits lifting a little. However, those same spirits sank about twenty tons when Kuroo lifted his face back up to reveal a sly smirk, barely holding back laughter as he saw the color leave Asahi’s face. Dropping his safe straw for everyone to witness, the scheming captain stepped back, allowing the final three some space to watch their fates unfold. Kageyama seemed the calmest observing them, but deep inside, he was sweating balls for Hinata.

Asahi finally opened the fist clenched onto his straw after five minutes of attempted mental preparation. Attempted, because even though he held a safe straw, he passed out from the sheer suspense of it all. Nishinoya squatted down next to his lifeless body, jabbing at his sides with his straw.

“Fuck it.” Tanaka chewed out as he opened his hand too, not caring to wait for Hinata to show him his fate. What he didn’t expect was the reveal of the plague that was the marked straw. Tsukishima gave out one of the most obnoxious snorts, Yamaguchi following suit.

“HINATA-BOKE!!!” Kageyama cried out in unrestrained joy as he ran to squeeze the smaller orange player, twirling him around in the process. “Oi!! I can’t breathe!”

Tanaka didn’t even know what emotion he was even feeling at that moment. He just stood there, palms together, pulling a bodhisattva face. “Well I guess that settles that!” Nishinoya stated with a broad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of Suga being a wine mom


	3. It’s Bedtime Bitch, If You Awake You A Fake (pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first nights together ooooooooh ← who wrote this booboo shit, confess to ur crimes stale end piece of white BREAD
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: I copy and pasted the summary... I am a stale end piece of white bread according to my head editor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok finally the fluff kicks in have fun you guys

A little bit further down the hall, a mexican standoff ensued. Both Oikawa and Sugawara’s hands were grasping tightly onto the doorknob to the shoddy master bedroom. Iwaizumi didn’t even say anything, he let his flexed bara arms do all the talking for him. Daichi scoffed, hardly impressed.

“Um excuse me, we got here first.” Suga placed his free hand on his hip in a demanding manner, making sure to give Aoba’s captain the dirtiest mean mug he could muster on his delicate face. Oikawa peered down at him condescendingly before quickly turning his nose into the other direction, sneering all the while.

“Oh you’re excused.”

Before Suga could lunge at Oinkawa’s sassy throat, Daichi pulled his vice captain back behind him, giving the other pair a smile that was faker than a three dollar bill. “Hey we’re all adults here, can’t we settle this in a civil manner?” Iwaizumi nodded his head reluctantly; he was a bit disappointed, having been looking forward to a drawn out cat fight between the two feisty setters. Little did he know, Daichi was feeling the exact same way. “Yeah, let’s settle this like adults.”

\------ Thirty out of fifty rock-paper-scissors games later ------ 

Oikawa’s hands were on his bent knees, a gleam of sweat rolling down a popped vein on his temple. “Best forty out of sixty?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, hooking his fingers into the back of Oikawa’s collar. “They won fair and square Trashykawa. I heard the libero say there was a big bedroom on the third floor.”

Suga was just as much a sore winner as Oikawa was a sore loser, both sticking their tongues out at each other even as Oikawa was being dragged away by the muscular god that was Iwaizumi.

Feeling a bit neglected, Daichi gave Suga a firm slap on the ass, bringing the silver-haired player’s attention back onto him. “Let’s reap our rewards now, shall we?” He smiled, a seductive glint in his eyes as he lifted Suga up bridal style; he got the sweetest giggle in reply, making his cheeks flare up almost immediately and making his heartbeat race in anticipation. Kicking down the battered door, he made his way in, ready to throw Suga onto the most unsexy bed he had ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon; it was a disgusting barf of archaic floral prints and rainbow quilts, but even more alarming were the blotches of unidentifiable stains scattered upon the ancient sheets. Did someone’s great-grandparents just finish fucking ten seconds prior to their entrance? To make matters worse, the yellowish pillows looked like they were filled to the brim with road kill judging by the nasty odors emitting off of them. A mixture of disgust and repulse plastered both their faces as they realized that what they had won was not a reward, but rather a sick punishment.

“You place me on that bed and you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.” Suga said flatly.

“Floor it is!”

* * *

Sugamama laid out two futons side by side while Daichi pushed the unusable bed to the far corner. Moving the massive bed by himself was no easy feat, but with his strong thighs, it wasn’t too surprising. The two worked together to organize the room to their liking and comfort.

Once everything was in place, the raven haired boy changed into his sleep wear as Suga fluffed the pillows and waved their blanket in the air to blow lingering dust away. While Suga was immersed in the task at hand, Daichi glanced at his wristwatch to check the time.

_11:18 pm_

They both settled in the futons, naturally wrapping each other as they always did when sleeping together. Daichi knew exactly what position made his setter the most comfortable; arm under his neck, legs tangled, and light strokes on his hair.

The silver haired setter sighed in contempt as Daichi ran his fingers gently over his scalp.

“What’s wrong babe?” Daichi hummed as he turned to face the paler boy. 

“The weathers not letting up… and I don’t know how long we’re going to be cooped up in this disgusting house! But more importantly… I’m down to my last bottle Daichi! I can’t make this last!”

Daichi laughed in disbelief. They were responsible for thirteen delinquents, but his boyfriend’s biggest dilemma was how much booze he had left. The silver haired boy never ceased to amaze Daichi. He pulled the smaller boy closer to his chest, knowing that Suga responded best to close contact.

“Koushi, maybe you could use this opportunity to cut back a little?”

Karasuno’s captain realized a bit too late the mistake he had made. Suga’s golden-brown eyes peered up at Daichi through long silver lashes, a frown spreading wider on his face as each second passed.

Suga gave out another exhausted sigh and turned his entire body away. He was already stressed out from the housing issue and he definitely didn’t have it in him to argue with his captain. _‘God I could really use a drink right about now.’_ He thought to himself.

Daichi mentally slapped himself for carelessly making Suga feel self conscious. He told himself he’d love all of Sugawara Koushi no matter what. If he needed a new liver, then so be it; Daichi would give it to him with no hesitation. He made a mental note to buy Suga a bottle of Dom Perignon later to make up for his error.

Before Dadchi began the consoling process, he took another peek at his watch.

_11:35 pm_

The slightly taller boy wrapped his arms around Suga’s slim waist and pulled their bodies together once more. Thankfully, Suga didn’t make a fuss, but neither did he reciprocate any signs of affection. Daichi buried his face into the setter’s back, taking in his vanilla-like scent and allowing himself to be intoxicated with it. He trailed feather light kisses on Suga’s neck until his mouth reached the other’s ear.

“Sorry… I was just teasing.” Daichi whispered. Suga shivered from the sensation of Daichi’s hot breath on the shell of his ear.

He could see Suga’s ears reddening at the tip. This was usually the first sign that the setter was beginning to warm up to him again. Daichi, if nothing else, was a strategist. Through many attempts and trials, Daichi perfected a three step process that got Suga to forgive him for anything. Step one was apologizing. Suga’s foul mood would drop tremendously after this step.

Just like the raven haired captain anticipated, Suga turned towards Daichi timidly. Amber eyes shyly flickered to deep brown ones. Time for step two to take place; shower him in affection.

The raven haired captain placed his hands over the other’s shoulders. His fingers began to lightly glide up and down Suga’s arm, feeling the goosebumps emerge from under his gentle strokes. Daichi covered Suga’s face with kisses at a leisurely pace, as if he were worshipping his features. Daichi's lips met with Suga’s smooth skin; first his temple, the side of his mouth, back up to the tip of his nose, his forehead, and then to that adorable beauty mark right under his eye.

“You know there isn’t a thing I’d change about you, right Koushi?”

“I-I know Daichi… I also know that none of this is your fault. Today’s just been really stressful…” Suga breathed out. His milky cheeks were flushed, and this time it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“It’s been a rough day for all of us, I just want to do what I can to make things easier for you.” Daichi murmured affectionately before placing another kiss on his cheek. Putting Suga in a good mood was crucial for the crow captain’s upcoming plans.

Before Daichi commenced in step three, he slyly eyed his watch again.

_11:49 pm_

Daichi’s hand slipped under Suga’s chin and tilted his face up slightly, a calloused thumb brushed across the silver haired boy’s parted lips. Daichi’s mouth hovered right over Suga's, so close they could feel every breath the other made. He placed his other hand firmly on the small of the other’s back and gazed intently at his blushing setter. Step three: tell him those three words without the use of words.

Daichi’s lips gently pressed against Suga’s. Their lips molded against each other flawlessly, moving in sync and keeping their pace. It was slow, tentative, and everything that embodied their whole relationship. It was perfect. What seemed to be an innocent kiss transfigured into something more passionate. The pecks became open mouth kisses and Suga began rolling his hips on Daichi’s thigh, a tell-tale sign that the silver haired boy wanted more. Although it took all of Daichi’s willpower and 10% more to deny Suga’s unvoiced request, he needed to calm things down a bit. He knew that if they didn’t stop now, there would be no way in hell they’d stop later.

Their lips finally parted to gasp for air, but even after, the two felt breathless. Suga wrapped his arm around the raven haired boy and held him tight. He was a bit confused as to why Daichi didn’t give him what he wanted, but decided it wasn’t worth pondering about. Suga’s heart constricted with adoration for the man in his embrace. No matter how many times they kissed, he’d always get the same invigorating feeling in his chest. Sometimes it felt like fireworks, other times it felt like everything around them disappeared, and the only thing that existed was them.

After the kiss, Daichi rested his forehead against Suga’s, remembering that the silver haired setter’s favorite part of their intimate moments was when they both laid in silence, and listened to their heartbeats throb against their chest together.

One last glance of his watch read _11:55 pm_.

* * *

Asahi took several deep breaths while sitting on a frumpled couch, grey cotton spilling out from its olive-colored sides due to intense wear. He had just woken up from his embarrassing collapse during their earlier game of drawing straws. The last thing he saw being Tsukishima, who pulled out his cellphone to snap a pic as his face hit the floorboards, his eyes rolling backwards in slow motion while saliva splattered everywhere. For the first time since they had gotten trapped, he was glad that there was no wifi in this hellhole, saving him from the humiliation of social media for the time being.

Because of his impromptu nap, he missed out on a chance to get a proper bedroom. This situation was okay with Asahi though, because he knew he’d be safe if he was smack-dab in the center of the house. Anyone who watched horror movies would know that the people in the middle usually lived longer. 

The living room was very spacious, considering that the ceiling was as high as Karasuno’s gym. It was also adjacent to the kitchen, giving the burly man easy access to midnight snacking. The wallpaper was tattered, and the rug was greyed out from collecting dust for god knows how long. The most prominent decor was a huge portrait painting of an elderly woman, posed stiffly with a stern look on her face. The variety of colors used was very limited to hues of blue and black. The eyes were sunken in with heavy bags underneath, contrasting the whites of the eyes with the dark rings. The wrinkles and sunspots painted on the skin made the picture seem uncomfortably real. 

The bearded ace watched as Nishinoya drew out a futon onto the floor, right in front of a barren fireplace that looked as if it was last touched about a century ago. Nishinoya had agreed to spend the night together in the living room because Asahi was such a pansy.

Whenever Nishinoya and Asahi had sleepovers together, they got in the habit of talking until one of them passed out, which was usually Nishinoya. 

“Remember that time we went camping for a month, and your beard grew out crazy long?” Nishinoya asked in a playful tone.

“Oh my god Yuu, don’t bring this up…”

“We were all dirty from hiking and finally found a river to wash up in after two days and then yo-”

“Nishinoya PLEASE!” Asahi begged as he hid his face in his hands in embarrassment.

“...and then you got so excited you got buck naked so quick and ran towards the water… And.. And… I.. I” laughter bubbled up from Nishinoya’s chest, making it hard for him to complete his sentence.

Asahi groaned and shoved his head under the blankets not wanting to be reminded of the horrible memory.

“And I had that amazing idea and snapped blurry pictures of you running all excited in the middle of the night, and when we got home I sent the pictures to that Animal Planet show, what the hell was it called? Oh yeah _Finding Bigfoot_ , and they paid me like ¥500,000!!!” Nishinoya was cackling at this point and Asahi was painfully reminded about how his pictures were analyzed and scrutinized for thirty straight minutes on a special episode. At least Nishinoya split the money with him.

An hour had passed with the duo babbling about the most random things. Their conversations ranged from talking about the meaning of life to comparing Tsukishima and Kageyama’s saltiness. It was clear that Tsukki was the winner of that debate, because wow, that kid is the human concentration of salt crystals. 

Asahi was in the middle of explaining how pigeons should be the representative bird for hell instead of crows until he heard a familiar snore. 

He turned his head and looked at Nishinoya’s small body heave up and down in a slow rhythm. _'This is nice'_. The long haired ace sure was lucky to have a friend like Nishinoya. Even though the energetic libero was younger and the polar opposite in nature, he always made Asahi feel comfortable.

While thinking nothing but kind thoughts for his close friend, his eyes absent-mindedly traveled back up to the eerie painting. _‘Who in the world would buy such a creepy painting,’_ Asahi thought before flipping on the couch and facing his back towards the portrait. Right as he turned, he saw a sudden shift in the pupils of the old woman... but that was probably his imagination. Before he could allow himself to over think what he _might_ have seen, he shut his eyes and shut his brain off. _'Ignorance is bliss,'_ he told himself before falling asleep.

* * *

Hinata and Kageyama raced up the stairs with zero chill to no one’s surprise. Before they knew it, the noisy pair was already on the third floor, staring at the frail, oaken ladder that led to the attic. Neither of them made a move to climb on despite their competitive natures.

“You s-scared Kageyama?” Hinata shakily teased, eyes sullen, his face drained of any color and life.

“Tch. Y-you...w-wish!” Kageyama’s back looked like someone had dumped a bucketful of cold water onto it and intensely hosed him down right after.

To prove his lie, Kageyama slowly made his way up with trembling hands, the ladder making morse-code like noise as it repeatedly hit the floor from all the shaking. Hinata would’ve laugh at this, but his mind was too preoccupied with the fact that he was about to spend the night in a shady ass attic with Kageyama of all people, his dumb ego refusing to let him back out. “Ha... Hahaha... we c-can just find another room if y-you’re too scared..!” Hinata called out, using 200% of his willpower just to keep himself from dragging Kageyama’s wobbly legs back down. The dark-haired setter gave no reply, his brain ceasing to function from fear of the unknown. Their fates were sealed when Kageyama pushed open the attic door, puffs of dust spreading throughout the air from years of disuse. He climbed all the way up against his better judgment, setting his duffel bag to the side as he reached out a hand for Hinata.

Halfway up the ladder, Hinata was reunited with his long-lost common sense. Before the tiny middle-blocker even had time to fling himself off the pegs, Kageyama’s hand grasped the front of his shirt. His entire body was yanked abruptly into the advanced darkness, both their foreheads painfully butting against each other. 

“BOKE!! Get off of me!” 

“You were the one that yanked me up!!”

Rolling off each other, they twisted their heads around to see… nothing. They couldn’t see a foot in front of them, let alone their own hands. The room was filled with a suffocating silence, save for the occasional creaking that came from the rotting walls surrounding them. Faint skittering noises that must’ve belonged to some rodents could be heard from where they were standing. They figured that they could get Kenma to dispose of them later, as it was no secret that the freak setter was four-fifths feline.

“So...what now?” Hinata asked, thankful for the pitch darkness that enveloped them, cloaking his petrified face. He knew if Kageyama saw how terrified he was, the setter would never let him live it down. 

“We go to sleep, dumbass.”

“Oh right.”

Pulling out futons from their bags after a bit of blind fumbling, the duo said their good nights, both unaware that the other was also painstakingly wide awake. They unconsciously scuffled closer to one another, attempting to calm their nerves through the use of each other’s company.

Five minutes turned into ten and Hinata had yet to get a wink of sleep. His active mind was getting a bit too creative in the horror department and the looming darkness wasn’t making things any better. Willing his eyes to close once more, he pulled the covers tighter around his body, desperate to fall into the deep embrace of slumber. The fifth attempt was going well until Hinata felt a warm puff of breath on the back of his neck, making the miniscule hairs stand up in surprise. The tiny blocker hadn’t realized just how close he had scooted towards the other futon.

Before another thought could cross his mind, a hand wound its way underneath his arm to settle on his stomach, the flat of the palm roughly pushing him backwards towards a warm body.

 _‘WHAT…’_

Kageyama’s grip on him was unrelenting, his movements seeming a bit jerky. Hinata seriously hoped that the setter was just moving in his sleep, because he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to meet the other’s face after what had just transpired; his poor brain short-circuiting from the unexpected action. Hinata’s smaller hands swiftly reached down, attempting to pry off the palm that was currently holding him prisoner to a weirdly delectable heat. However, the attempt was quickly thwarted as Kageyama pulled his lithe body that much more closer, nuzzling his defined nose into the back of Hinata’s neck. A warm breath ghosted over his right cheek as Kageyama began to whisper something.

“Mmmfh....Hinata…..”

The hand trailed further down to rest at the band of Hinata’s shorts, hesitating for a couple seconds before it dipped lower. Hinata parted his lips in a gasp as he felt Kageyama’s mouth begin to work on his neck, trailing small pecks slowly towards the underside of his quickly reddening ear. If Hinata was honest with himself, he was liking where things were headed, craning his head back a bit to allow Kageyama better access. It was at this moment that Hinata figured out the motive behind the setter’s sly right hand, the slender fingers enclosing themselves around his growing bulge. Hinata yelped in surprise at the contact, flicking the back of his hand right onto Kageyama’s unfortunate face. 

“Uggh!! ...what was that for?!” The setter cradled his abused nose with his hands as he lifted to a sitting position, cursing under his breath all the while. 

Hinata turned to stare blankly at Kageyama, who gave him an equally as confused look in return. Did he not know what had just occurred only seconds ago? The middle blocker discreetly opened his covers to reveal an obvious tent over his shorts, causing him to release a long drawn out sigh; he was gonna have to finish what Kageyama started in the bathroom later.

“Nothing… I guess I move a lot in my sleep.”

“Well keep your hands to yourself, dumbass!” The raven-haired setter shot Hinata one last glare before he turned over in irritation, eager to resume his sleeping. Mirroring his movements, the smaller player faced the other direction in a huff, quietly brooding over the fact that Kageyama should be taking his own advice.The angered silence didn’t last for very long though as Hinata spoke up again, his voice shaking a bit.

“Hey, do you hear t-that?”

“No I don’t, now quit talking Hinata.”

_Scritch scratch, scritch scratch, scritch scratch_

_Chitty chitty bang bang_

_Boomshakkalakaa_

“What are you doing, go find the flashlight BOKE!!”

With that Hinata scrambled out of his futon, dashing straight into the wall, because an adrenaline rush did not mean a cure for blindness. Clutching his slightly bleeding nose with one hand, the other rummaged frantically into the bag until a familiar plastic texture could be felt. With one swift movement, he flicked on the flashlight and swung the circle of light towards what looked to be a lone gift box wrapped in mauve-tone paper, held together by a crisp, black bow. Both Kageyama and Hinata shot questioning looks at one another, before the smaller of the two started to choke out a dry laugh.

“Buhahaha! Never staked you out to be the romantic type Kageyama!”

“I didn’t put that there, IDIOT!” Kageyama hissed as he gave his partner a sharp slap on the back of the head. 

Ignoring the usual pain, Hinata bent down to tug at the bow, lifting the lid of the peculiar “present” off. He reached inside to pull out a folded, withered note and a clownish looking figure that had an eternal frown painted onto its face; the head was disturbingly placed upside down, causing the illusion of a smile. 

_‘Kageyama sure has a twisted sense of romance…’_ Hinata naïvely thought to himself as he opened up the note. Kageyama peered over his shoulder in angered curiosity to read along.

_We're no strangers to love_  
_You know the rules and so do I_  
_A full commitment's what I'm thinking of_  
_You wouldn't get this from any other guy_

_I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling  
Gotta make you understand_

_Never gonna give you up_  
_Never gonna let you down_  
_Never gonna run around and desert you_  
_Never gonna make you cry_  
_Never gonna say goodbye_

**“Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you~”**

A raspy voice broke the silence, making a gargled noise, as if there was liquid flooding the owner’s throat. The two players turned around to see a clown staring back at them with hollowed out, abysmal eyes. It’s head a mock mimicry of the figurine currently clasped around Hinata’s clammy palms, the only difference being that the head was held in place by a jagged pole that ran clear through the center of the creature’s severed neck; the piece of steel still clearly visible from between its brutally gory smile as its crusty tongue darted out to lap at a stray drop of blood.

“AUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Both Hinata and Kageyama’s ear-splitting screams echoed off the walls of the attic, the horrid image forever etched into their feeble, teenaged minds. The piercing noise caused the creature to chortle with amusement as it skittered back into the safety of darkness, it’s clown shoes making hysterical honking noises.

Hinata waved the light after the abomination, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Holy shit. I think I need to go to the bathroom.” Hinata’s raging boner from earlier was long gone, now being replaced by a full bladder.

Kageyama nodded slowly, eyes unblinking.

* * *

The communal bathroom was in the running for the most eerie and desolate room of the entire house. It was in the far corner of the third floor, across from Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s room. A colossal chandelier hung between the two rooms.

Only echoes of water dripping from rusty, aged faucets broke the would be heavy silence. Any normal person would immediately notice the unsettling nature of the air and high tail it out of there, obeying the human nature of flight or flight response, but Kenma was as far as you could get from the definition of normal. He was a furry.

Though the room was most likely unventilated for decades, it didn’t stop Nekoma’s setter from inhaling deeply, allowing the musk of the bathroom to flood his senses. If Kuroo were here, he would’ve spritzed Kenma with an obscene amount of water to discourage such actions. But he wasn’t here, so Kenma did as he pleased, appreciating the temporary freedom from his ~~master~~ captain. Breathing in the prominent stench of dampness, mold, and mildew of the somber atmosphere, Kenma smiled to himself through lidded eyes.

_‘Perfect.’_

Kozume Kenma was in his element and he was loving it, eyeing a shabby tub with fervor. His cat-like irises dilated as he hopped into the browning ceramic, landing on all fours with grace. He began to turn the rusted knobs laying next to the faucet, testing to see if water still ran within the prehistoric pipes, though he had his doubts. Only a horrific screeching noise answered him. The tub’s faucet began to rattle uncontrollably, some of the screws shakily poking out with the threat of flying across the room. Kenma scrambled to leave the tub, distress written all over his face, but his feet betrayed him. There was barely any traction within the tub and the slight buildup of grime didn’t help with the matter. He landed on his back from the slip, both his legs hanging off the sides of the tub, when it happened.

Something warm flooded the tub as Kenma kept his eyes closed, using only his sense of feel to assess the situation. _‘Huh, I guess the water system is still functioning… strange, but I’m not complaining.’_ He enjoyed the warmth of the liquid that still ran evenly down the faucet, not even caring that he was still fully clothed, his eyes closed in peaceful contentment. It wasn’t until the water had begun to cling onto his shoulder blades that he made a move to stop the faucet, his hands reaching up through something more viscous than it should’ve been. He opened his eyes just as his hands lifted through the thick fluid, only to find that he was covered in dark red rather than the expected clear. 

Kenma was sitting in a tub filled to the brim with more blood than he had ever seen in his life. However, this was just another Friday night for him. The fake blonde sighed as he moved to get out of the gory tub, twisting at his shirt to remove the excess blood that had absorbed into it with a slightly annoyed expression. 

“Haah… Kuroo’s gonna get on me about this later.” He grumbled as he kicked off his shoes, grabbing at his ruined jeans to pull them off as well.

He only had about two more fresh outfits he could change into. But first, he needed to scrub himself clean, because he knew exactly what would happen if he didn’t. The setter shuddered at the thought of Kuroo hosing him down whenever he went days on end without a shower, usually due to a new game that had been released that week. Bloody tubs were really such an inconvenience. He mused this to himself as he trudged towards the showering area, leaving behind a trail of slick, crimson footprints.

* * *

The small middle blocker slid down the ladder rather clumsily, sprinting as fast as he could towards the communal bathroom on the same floor, his troublesome bladder a hair away from bursting. Kageyama had stayed behind to keep an eye out for the monstrosity, like the reliable [boy]friend he was. Although it did take a shit ton of convincing, one game of rock-paper-scissors, and some unqualified therapy for him to go through with it. Hinata wheezed through his lungs as he stood with hands between the doorframe of the bathroom, scanning for the urinals before something pungent had hit his nostrils. Why the hell did it smell like copper in here? No matter, there were more important things at hand. The orange-haired player, through marked luck, managed to spot out the urinals near the back area, hidden behind some shower stalls.

Hinata let out a sigh of comfort as he finally relieved himself of the growing pressure down nether. While he was doing his business, his right ear couldn’t help but pick up something that sounded awfully close to running water. He turned his head to find golden eyes staring back at him. Eyes that belonged to a bloodied, butt-ass naked creature who was currently crouching down to scrub at its dampened hair with what looked to be fresh blood pooling around the soles of its feet.

“KAGEYAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

Hinata didn’t have time to tuck himself away as the monster stood up, clasping its ears before it made a move towards him. The eyes practically glowing amid the shades of red, made all the more menacing through the encirclement of darkness. 

“Ughh, Shouyou... it’s me..”

Two bloodied hands reached out to cover Hinata’s incessant mouth, but the still running water had caused the creature to slip on the wet tiles, its hands instead landing on Hinata’s neck in a surprise choke hold. The two fell to the floor with Hinata clawing at his assaulter from the bottom position, his eyes clouding over with tears at the lack of oxygen.

_‘That’s it Hinata, this is how you die. Choked to death half-naked by Satan incarnate in a run down bathroom. I’m sorry I never did the laundry whenever you asked Mom! I just let it pile up like the piece of shit I am-’_

“HINATA!!!!” 

Boy was Hinata glad to hear that annoying, yet familiar shriek. He managed to crack a smile even as his life force was being crushed out of him.

“WHAT THE SHIT?! IF YOU NEEDED SOMEONE TO PRACTICE BDSM WITH, YOU COULD OF ASKED ME!”

Nevermind. The last thing Hinata needed was for Kageyama to kink shame him in his death throes. Nevertheless, Kageyama got the job done, catching the monster off-guard with a blow directly behind the head with his flashlight. The figure slumped over on Hinata, smearing blood all over his lower half, before the enraged setter pulled him out from under the dead weight. Kageyama quickly turned his head when he noticed Hinata’s lack of undergarments, blushing through his unnecessarily jealous fuming. He distracted himself by going over to the freakish blood-red victim, turning the body over before he threw his flashlight at it in shock.

“Ahh shit! I think I just knocked out that creepy cat guy on Nekoma’s team!” 

Hinata sat bare-ass on the cold, soaking floor, pulling an ugly sobbing face. He promised to fold the laundry next time his mom asked.

* * *

The walk to the boiler room was a lonely and terrifying one. Tanaka turned away from the living room to march towards what may very well be his final resting place. The unlit hallway was riddled with many old desks and chairs, but it wasn’t the pain formed from bumping into the obstacles that caused a single, manly tear to stream down his seemingly serene face.

As the miserable baldy drew closer, he noticed something peeking out from the beneath the door to the cellar. Something pulsating, fleshy, and covered in fingernails. 

“Ohh haailllll nawwwww…..” He hoarsely whispered, eyes squinted in both annoyance and fear. If he did so much as squeal, he’d wake up Asahi and Nishinoya in the living room, and in turn, lose all street cred as the local badass. He’d much rather die than let that happen. Maybe. Tanaka started to reconsider after the vomit-inducing shit he had just witnessed.

The neighborhood delinquent lifted his foot up to stomp down onto the grotesque fingers that laid splayed out on the antique carpet, but the digits retreated at the last second, his foot meeting only the filth-ridden floor. Either the hallway had just gotten six degrees cooler or Tanaka’s abused heart had finally refused to pump blood down his veins any longer. Whatever nasty fuck was hidden behind that door, it was alive and moving on its own.

Wrenching the rusted doorknob opened, he flung open the doorway to hell, ready to punch whatever abomination would be standing there waiting to maul his eyes out. 

He was mercifully met with only darkness, but in the back of his mind, he knew his ass was still screwed to the highest degree. Something sinister was lurking just underneath the staircases he was currently descending. The fire from his lit match twitched around frantically, causing multiple shadows to appear and disappear in an unsettling manner. An uncountable number of glass-like crosses adorned the walls, several of them flipping upside down as he trudged past.

“Whatever you are, I’m not here to start any beef. I just want a good night’s sleep.” Tanaka breathed out, the atmosphere suddenly becoming very nightmarish. 

The door slammed shut behind him as he slowly jerked his head around, praying to all the deities that it was just Nishinoya playing a shitty prank on him.

“I come in no harm. Swear on my momma’s beat-up bible and Daichi’s collection of Suga’s underwear.” 

This seemed to anger whatever monstrosity that was existing there as the rest of the crosses flipped upside-down, making jarring noises as they plummeted to the ground, smashing into sharp, glass pieces. The baldy instantly regretted his choice of words, realizing that he was probably dealing with what looked to be the Antichrist.

“BRUH. WHAT DID I JUST SAY? I COME IN PEACE!!” Tanaka hazardously waved around a peace-sign with his free hand to emphasize. 

As the last sentence left his quivering lips, a strong gust blew out the flame of his match, the entire room now swallowed up again in overwhelming darkness.

“.........”

“Kay’ you know what, I don’t even care anymore. Just take my ass already.”

The paranormal force quickly complied as Karasuno’s wing spiker suddenly felt a sharp slap on his ass.

“The HELL? I DIDN’T MEAN IT LITERALLY!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "he luuuh dis fatasssss" -Nicki Minaj


	4. It’s Bedtime Bitch, If You Awake You A Fake (pt 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other half of the volleyball boys' first night. (Gomen Tsukki…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's art was made by: Head Editor :')
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Bokuto carried both his bag and Akaashi’s to the second floor without breaking a sweat, though the feat was less impressive when everyone knew that Bokuto’s duffel bag was completely empty. The spiky, streaky-haired owl pranced about in an infuriatingly optimistic manner until he found a room to his liking. He hooted at Akaashi and Kuroo to follow, having decided that all three of them were going to share the room of his own accord. They both knew that arguing with Bokuto would only serve to rekindle the appearance of the infamous “emo-mode”, so they bit back their tongues and entered, trying their absolute best to refrain from gagging at the mere sight of the room.

The first thing Kuroo noticed was that it was barely made for two people; the medium-sized room was going to be a tight fit. The dark-haired captain popped his head back out to find that the only other room on the floor was already taken. Well this was just fan-fucking-tastic. He turned his head back inside to find only one frumpy bed and a built in closet. The shoddy room was complete with wallpaper so atrocious that an interior designer could’ve been jailed for attempting to use it. 

“Christ...”

“I know right?!! Man we really lucked out with this room!” Bokuto seemed to be the only one enjoying their current situation, yapping about how excited he was for the sleepover. A sleepover that only _he_ had agreed upon to be more exact. Akaashi was already unpacking his bag in the corner, clearly used to Bokuto’s antics. Kuroo felt newfound respect for Fukurodani’s setter. He himself, had already put up with a lot of the shit that came with the entitlement of being Bokuto’s best friend, but he couldn’t imagine himself babysitting Bokuto all day on the same team like Akaashi did. Bless his tired, quiet soul. 

Pushing that thought aside, Kuroo walked over to dump his bag next to Akaashi’s, gaining the owl setter’s attention. Akaashi followed the taller boy’s gaze towards the quickly deteriorating bed that Bokuto had just flopped himself on top of. A gust of dust that was most likely older than Suga’s best wine bottle, flew out from the abrupt motion, causing the other two players to have a coughing fit. 

“Your boyfriend really got us into a pickle this time. That bed is obviously made for two people... not that I have a problem with the three of us sharing either way.” Kuroo ended his sentence with a wiggle of the brows.

“Bokuto-san is not my boyfriend.” Akaashi mustered out, directing a glare at the nosy captain. _‘Wow, of course that’d be the part he’d paid attention to’_ , Kuroo thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, but he might as well be since the two of you are practically inseparable.” Kuroo spared a glance at Bokuto, who was busy building a pillow fortress, before he continued. 

“Just between the two of us, me and the Karasuno boys have been placing bets on who’d make the first move between the two of you.” The middle blocker found it extremely hard to stifle his laughter when he saw the indignant look pasted on Akaashi’s usually calm face.

“My bet’s on Bokuto by the way, seeing as how you’re too much of a princess to ask him out yourself.” Kuroo barely dodged the towel that was accurately aimed at his face, followed by several pairs of shirts, and a toothbrush. Bokuto noticed the commotion and stumbled over towards the two in confusion, pillows flying everywhere in his wake. 

“Woahh bros, what’s up? Did something happen?”

“Everything’s fine Bokuto-san,” Akaashi gave Nekoma’s captain a side-glare while still facing Bokuto. How the setter was able to throw shade at Kuroo from that angle was beyond him. “Kuroo-san was just helping me move my stuff in.”

“Ohh ok! I can help too you know,” Bokuto gave a sheepish grin as he began to pick up Akaashi’s items, packing them into the corner of the room. It made Akaashi’s heart throb a little, but he made sure that nothing would give away his true feelings, at least not within Kuroo’s presence.

“Soo, real quickly, who’s gonna be taking the bed tonight?” Bokuto stiffened at Kuroo’s question, eyeing Akaashi out of habit. Usually, Akaashi would know the right answer and Bokuto was hoping he’d have one right about now. But, Akaashi just stared back, his face beginning to redden at the prospect of sharing a bed with Bokuto. 

“I-uh...Bokuto-s-san...want t-to...share-”

Bokuto apparently caught on to what Akaashi was getting at. 

“Y-yeah! Uhh I mean.. ” Bokuto leaned in closer to a wildly blushing Akaashi to whisper under his breath. _“...but what about Kuroo?”_

OH. MY. **SHIT**. Could they be any more obvious?! Kuroo desperately wanted someone to smack a bottle over his head, preferably Champagne. Being knocked out with a slight chance of a concussion sounded much better than choking on the thick sexual tension that was currently plaguing the room.

“You know what, I can just take the closet. You two can have at the bed.” 

“Bro, ya’ sure??????”

“Of course bro, anything for you and your sweetheart.”

“Hahaha thanks man-... wait, wha?” 

“Thank you, Kuroo-pain-in-the-ass-san,” the quieter owl gritted through his teeth. Akaashi’s glare had transformed into a downright murderous stare. Something told Kuroo that if he pushed any further, Akaashi would go through with his silent threat.

“No problem! Where would you guys be without me?”

“Not in this position, that’s for sure.” Kuroo shrugged at Akaashi’s offhand comment. The guy was right after all.

The dark-haired blocker got up to struggle a bit with the rusty door to the closet, but when it finally opened, he was surprised to find that it was of a sizable space. He’d probably have to sleep with his knees bent a bit, but he couldn’t complain. Anything was better than having to sleep in the forsaken boiler room. Damn, that Tanaka guy had it really bad.

“Well I’ll be taking my leave now, all the thirsting in this room is making me crave a glass of water.” Kuroo let out a wide grin that could’ve given the Cheshire Cat a run for his money, making six-year old smooching noises on his way out of the crowded room.

Bokuto mouthed a silent “thank you” as Akaashi quickly flicked his head down to hide the growing blush on his face, panicking a bit for once in his life. 

Strutting down the hallway with a kick in his steps, Kuroo wondered what he would spend his winnings from the bet on.

* * *

“Gross.”

Tsukishima’s word echoed throughout the run-down bedroom he and Yamaguchi had chosen on the second floor. The room smelled like roadkill that had been left out in the sun for too long, then shoved into a jar to be pickled for as long as Leonardo Di Caprio had failed to win an Oscar. The only upside was that there was a bunk bed, allowing for both of them to keep their own space. Yamaguchi didn’t seem to mind the abhorrent stench and was just glad that he was able to spend the night with Tsukki in the first place. 

Facing away, Yamaguchi started to undress, slowly pulling off his shirt to get ready for the night. He hoped Tsukishima saw the freckles on his back that happened to look like the constellation for “The Little Dipper”, and would then start a conversation about it. Yamaguchi had planned for this the moment he found out that he and Tsukki were sharing a room together. Taking eons too long to put on some clothes, he gave up his prospect and slipped on his favorite sleeping shirt that had the word “Tacos” on it. When he was finished, he turned towards the bed to see that Tsukki had already gotten comfortable on the bottom bunk. He began to climb the ladder towards the top bunk when Tsukishima spoke up, putting his movements to a halt.

“That spot is taken, Yamaguchi.”

With confusion etched on his face, Yamaguchi climbed up two more pegs to find Tsukki’s glasses folded neatly over the pillow. 

“....Eh?”

At this point, there was only one option left for Yamaguchi. The freckled pinch server dragged out a thin futon from his bag to drape it over the ground next to Tsukishima. After settling on the frigid floor, Yamaguchi quietly wished Tsukki a good night’s rest, to which Tsukki replied with,“Shut up Yamaguchi.”

Tsukki abruptly woke up from his beauty sleep in the midst of the night. He was in dire need of water (probably because of how salty he was being all day). He stood up and grabbed his glasses from the bunk above without having to climb up because of his exceptional height. Before leaving the room, he glanced at Yamaguchi, who was shivering on the floor like a pitiful kitten. 

Tsukishima was probably the biggest asshole on Karasuno, but he was actually a pretty nice guy when he was sure people weren’t paying attention to him. He grabbed his volleyball jacket that was folded neatly next to his pillow and carefully walked towards Yamaguchi’s trembling body. He gently spread the jacket over his small freckled friend and walked out the room, thinking to himself that the jacket wasn’t going to warm Yamaguchi for jack shit, but it’s the effort that counts he supposed.

* * *

Tsukishima descended the first flight of stairs in silence, being considerate of Asahi and Nishinoya, who were sleeping soundly in the living room. Upon entering the kitchen he could make out a tall figure leaning on the counter. Saltyshima approached the mysterious person slowly, giving his eyes some time to adjust to the moonlight beaming through the boarded windows and holes. His look of curiosity was soon replaced with a cringe of disgust when he saw that unmistakably cocky grin. 

“Good morning Sunshine, what brings you here at this lovely hour?” Kuroo asked as he turned his body towards Tsukishima.

“Water. Why are you up?”

“Cats are nocturnal you know~”

“Ok.”

“Geez Tsukki, could you not talk my ear off?”

Tsukki ignored Kuroo, whose gaze followed the blonde as he walked past him completely unphased and uninterested. All he wanted to do was quench his thirst, but now he had to deal with a long and lanky obstacle.

Tsukishima quickly grabbed a water bottle and headed towards the hall on the opposite side of where Kuroo was standing, hoping to save some calories from a useless conversation with a useless man. But of course like all things in Tsukki’s life, things never worked out the way he wanted them to.

Although Tsukishima was blessed with long legs, his fastest speed was on par with a golf cart. It didn’t take long for Kuroo to close the gap between them and lean over the doorframe that led to the hall. 

“C’mon Tsukki, don’t you want to stay up with me and talk some shit?” Kuroo asked as his signature smirk made an appearance.

The idea was actually appealing to Tsukishima, because he lived for gossiping and putting peasants in their place. Unfortunately, he would not participate in a pleasant activity with an unpleasant person. Especially if that person was Kuroo fuckin’ Tetsurou.

“As amusing as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.” Tsukki said cooly. He tipped his head to the side, signalling for the scheming captain to move.

The older stayed where he was, provoking Tsukishima to physically push him out of the way. Kuroo quickly grabbed the hand that was pressed to his chest. Within seconds, he spun Tsukki with a sudden tug and slammed his hands on each side of Tsukishima’s head, pinning him on the wall.

They were at the entrance of the hall, only Tsukishima’s face was illuminated by the moonlight while Kuroo’s was darkened by shadows. Their faces were only inches apart, giving Kuroo the opportunity to study Tsukishima’s face. The blonde’s normally composed expression was now displaying some real emotion, which mysteriously piqued the captain’s interest. A gasp escaped from barely parted pink lips. Behind thick black frames, usually half lidded eyes were blown wide, reflecting the bluish light off of the amber irises.

It only took a few seconds for Tsukki to regain his composure, letting his face fall back into its original scowl. 

“And just what the hell are you doing?” The taller asked irritably, doing his absolute best to seem and sound unaffected while his legs were slightly tremoring. 

“You’d seriously be such a catch if it weren’t for that smartass mouth of yours.” Kuroo retorted as he moved his face closer to the younger one’s at a painfully slow pace. 

Tsukki frantically looked around, trying to gather his thoughts. Throughout the whole day Kuroo had done nothing but inconvenience him with his existence, but now he wanted to make a move on him? This made no sense. Why did he have to tease to this extent?

Distracted by his thoughts, Tsukki hadn’t realized Kuroo closed the distance between them considerably. Their faces were only inches apart... centimeters... millimeters. Tsukki squeezed his eyes shut right when Kuroo began to tilt his head slightly. He could feel Kuroo’s breath ghost over his lips. This was happening too quick; it was overwhelming. His heart raced faster and faster, but from what? The tension? Nervousness? _Or something else?_

Before he knew it, the warmth surrounding him vanished.

“What’re you closing your eyes for? Expecting something?”

Tsukishima shot his eyes open to see Kuroo standing half a meter away from him. Although he couldn’t see the older man due to his eyes adjusting to the limited light of the hallway, he was sure Kuroo had that damned grin plastered on his face. The house itself was chilly but the lingering warmth of the messy haired boy negated the coolness around Tsukishima. 

Before Tsukki had any time to collect himself, Kuroo closed in and murmured in the blonde's ear, “Y’know, I like it a lot when you’re flustered. It’s cute.”

“I don’t get flustered.” Tsukki retorted with obvious annoyance in his voice.

“I’m just flattered I’m one of the few people that can affect you.” Kuroo taunted.

“You definitely aren’t.” 

“Alright, whatever you say...”, Kuroo turned to head back up the stairs but stopped to add in one extra comment.

“By the way Tsukki, your cheeks are red.” With that, Kuroo headed up the to his room smirking to himself.

Karasuno’s blocker took this time to close his eyes and breathe slowly, evening out his heart rate. It had been a long time since Tsukishima Kei put an effort into anything. But in that moment, he vowed to do everything in his power to stop himself from letting his heart race for any reason other than running more than five meters. Especially if it was for a person named Kuroo fuckin’ Tetsurou.

* * *

Fidgeting with his hands, Akaashi sat facing the opposite way on the edge of the bed as he waited for Bokuto to finish getting into the pyjamas that the astute owl had luckily packed earlier. The two of them had just finished lighting up some wax candles, though the lighting within the room itself was still quite dim. Akaashi seated himself patiently, watching the shadow of his captain pull his shirt over his head, his heart beating a bit too quickly for his liking. 

“Oi Akaashi! You don’t mind if I roll around a bit do ya? I’m a pretty heavy sleeper too, so don’t hesitate to kick me awake!”

The quieter setter turned his head around at the sound of the ace’s voice before his eyes were met with a sight so glorious, he could’ve actually cried. If being irresistibly hot was a crime, Akaashi would’ve already been paying weekly visits to Bokuto from prison. So the captain’s idea of putting on pyjamas was just him clad in briefs and nothing else. Nice. 

Bokuto’s shirtless back faced towards Akaashi; his defined back muscles were outlined through the faint gleams of sweat that reflected off the light of the candles. Every ripple of muscle served as a constant reminder of how dedicated Bokuto was to volleyball. All the early mornings and late nights Bokuto stayed practicing his spikes had earned him a well-deserved spot within the top five spikers of the country, as well as the adoration of his teammates. There were perks in having a captain of such high rank and Akaashi was presently enjoying one of them, marvelling at the athletic physique that was teasing him at such close proximity. He gulped as he resisted the urge to reach out towards the powerful biceps that were hanging in symmetry from Bokuto’s broad shoulders, imagining them wrapped around him in a rough embrace that would only entice him for more. 

“Akaashi?”

Akaashi was pulled from his distracting thoughts, embarrassed by the fact that he’d forgotten to reply through his unanticipated fantasizing. Maybe Kuroo was right about the whole thirsting thing, but Akaashi couldn’t help it when it came to Bokuto. Hell, he hadn’t even known he was even harboring these feelings until just recently, his mind becoming more pervaded by Bokuto with each passing day. He could only hope that Bokuto would be able to reciprocate the feelings that kept him awake at night.

“Don’t worry about it Bokuto-san. I’ll let you know if you happen to roll over to my side of the bed.” Secretly, he wished to be crushed by the hunk of man-meat that was Fukurodani’s ace.

“No don’t just let me _‘know’_! Kick me awake, I’m serious! I’d rather wake up from an awesome dream than to the fact that I’ve just suffocated my own teammate!!”

“...Ok, I’ll kick you awake if needed.” 

Bokuto seemed to be satisfied with his answer as he turned around with a triumphant smile, but his expression faded to one of confusion when he eyed Akaashi, who was still sitting on the bed. To be more exact, he was eyeing the material currently draped upon the setter.

“You gonna sleep in that?”

Akaashi looked down at his slacks and dress shirt before he let out a muffled cough. How was he going to change with Bokuto staring him down like that? With him shirtless, it was making it five-hundred times as hard. Akaashi almost wished for Kuroo-pain-in-the-ass-san to still be here, if only to keep Bokuto preoccupied as he changed.

“Umm, I was just about to get out of these.” 

With hastened steps, Akaashi made it to his bag from across the room in record time, not missing the way Bokuto’s head had turned to keep his owl-like eyes fixated on him.

Akaashi’s hands trembled a bit as they moved up to unclasp the first button on his dark blue shirt. Why was he so damn nervous? All he had to do was get into his PJ’s, hop into bed, and try his darndest to not get crushed under his captain’s weight, if only for the latter’s sake as Akaashi really had no qualms were that to happen. His fingers were now midway down the cotton fabric, prying at the buttons ever so slowly as he faintly wondered if the louder owl was still watching him or already in bed asleep; the ace was being uncharacteristically quiet. Fukurodani’s setter couldn’t help the feeling of excitement that was prickling from under his skin at the thought of Bokuto watching him undress. 

The room was dead silent, save for the sound of the first piece of garment falling to the floor.

* * *

Golden eyes traced the lines of the smaller silhouette standing just several feet ahead, lingering a bit longer on the lower half. Bokuto had already seen Akaashi change numerous times after their matches, so this time shouldn’t have been anymore different, yet something nagged at the crevices of his mind saying otherwise. 

_‘Something feels different this time…’_

But what? He wracked his mind for an answer, but couldn’t seem to find a solid one. Perhaps it was the fact that it was just the two of them, the usual chatter of their teammates being replaced instead by soft breathing and the crackles of the melting candles laying by their feet. The owl captain had half the mind to go lay down on the bed to give Akaashi some privacy, but something compelled him to stay and watch. He followed every movement; from long, graceful fingers silently running themselves through silky, dark hair to the dip of the shirt as the setter moved to slide it off of his pale, unmarked shoulders. Bokuto cursed himself for being able to conjure up such vivid images of him running his own hands through the setter’s mesmerizing hair. When the shirt had finished crumpling itself into a nice ring around the quieter owl’s feet, Akaashi rotated his head a tiny margin, as if to take a peek at his captain. Their eyes met for several fleeting seconds, enough time for Bokuto’s tongue to involuntarily flicker out, licking at his upper lip. He hadn’t meant to do that.

Akaashi must’ve seen this as he quickly turned back around, his cheek tinted a shade of red from the angle the ace was looking on at. Bokuto was downright frustrated, he didn’t know what had gotten into him, his fingers reaching up to graze over his lips. He was about to open his mouth to break the increasingly awkward air, but Akaashi beat him to it.

“...Bokuto-san,” Akaashi paused a bit to let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, “I need to get something off my chest.”

Bokuto stayed silent, focusing on the way Akaashi’s right hand had moved to wrap itself onto his left, rubbing the skin of the palm in a soothing manner. Despite the action, the setter’s demeanor all but screamed ‘tension’. Worry began to creep onto the usually loud owl’s face. He wanted to know what was eating at his precious Akaashi and would do anything in his power to remedy it. Wait, did he just call Akaashi “precious”... and “his”? 

“Well it’s not about something, more about someone.”

This caught Bokuto’s attention. Was there an asshole messing with Akaashi?! His fists clenched tight at the thought, any tighter and some blood might’ve been drawn. Akaashi’s body language seemed to encourage this assumption, his shoulders slumping and head lowering. Bokuto waited for Akaashi to continue, but he didn’t utter another word. 

“Akaashi, did someone hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me any sooner-”

“No Bokuto-san, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is this about?!” Bokuto struggled to keep the urgency and worry out of his voice, but his emotions had gotten the best of him once again. He brusquely power-walked over to Akaashi, spinning him around to see his face, but the setter’s eyes looked at anything but him. Akaashi was usually quiet, but this silence was...

 _‘Different.’_ His mind finished the sentence for him.

This was a side of the setter Bokuto had never seen before and he didn’t particularly like this new, vulnerable Akaashi. He took another step towards his smaller teammate with narrowed eyes, personal space be damned, he needed to figure out why Akaashi was acting like this. Every time Akaashi took a step back, Bokuto would fill in his steps. This continued until Akaashi’s back came into contact with the cool wall, making him fully aware of the fact that he was still half-dressed.

“Tell me.” Bokuto gritted out, annoyed by Akaashi’s silence for once in his life. 

The dark-haired setter finally moved his eyes back towards rightfully angered, golden orbs. He was beating around the bush and both of them knew it. Akaashi braced himself for the incoming rejection. It was now or never.

“Bokuto-san, I..” he breathed against the taller spiker’s collarbone. They were mere centimeters apart. 

_‘I think I’m in love with you.’_

“I-..”

_‘No, I am in love with you.’_

“I-...”

No, this wasn’t working out. Akaashi hesitated for a second before settling a hand behind Bokuto’s head, entwining his fingers into the spiky, yet soft hair there. He’d have to speak his mind through actions instead. 

Bokuto’s eyes widening was the last thing Akaashi’s half-lidded eyes saw before they shut, their lips meeting after a light nudge from the hand behind Bokuto’s head. They stood like that for what seemed like hours, before Akaashi pulled back from the soft kiss, his eyes still closed for fear of what he would see. 

The wavy-haired setter waited for the slap that should’ve connected with his cheek, but it never came. When the silence was too much to bear, he gradually opened his eyes, long lashes fluttering apart. A feeling of overwhelming relief washed over him when Bokuto came into his view, his vision beginning to blur from the tears that had welled up against his will. He had ran this scenario many times in his head and sometimes Bokuto would either run away or yell at him in disgust. Yet here Bokuto was, still standing in front of him, wiping the stray tear drops from his face with his thumb. A genuine smile covered his face as he lifted Akaashi’s chin to get them both to eye-level. 

“Thanks for telling me, Akaashi.” 

With that, Bokuto leant down to capture his setter’s lips once more. The air of dread surrounding Akaashi seemed to dissipate altogether the moment their mouths rejoined. That was, until Akaashi broke them apart again. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know…for my sake.”

Bokuto frowned as the dark-haired setter began to stare at the floor again. That’s fine. Bokuto was ready to do some convincing to bring that confidence back. 

“You’re not making me do anything Akaashi. I want this.”

Bokuto began to trail his hands up and down the sides of the lean chest that stood in front of him in a comforting manner. He wanted to eradicate any traces of apprehension looming over the setter, to make him as relaxed as possible. Akaashi lifted his arms to wrap them around Bokuto’s shoulders, his eyes still not leaving the floor. The spiky-haired ace paused his ministrations when he reached the band of the slacks, sliding a hand towards the belt as the other moved to wrap itself around the back of Akaashi’s long neck, before it trailed further upwards. He gave the setter a small tug by the hair, lifting his face back up. This time Akaashi met his gaze straight-on, his slate-grey eyes searching his own owl-like ones for any signs of pity. The setter seemed to have found his answer as he didn’t cower away from the taller spiker’s touches this time.

Neither broke eye-contact as Bokuto undid the belt in seconds, yanking the leather out in one swift motion before he let it drop to the floor with a dull thud. With the constricting item out of the way, his free hand grasped Akaashi’s hip from between the loosened band, drawing lazy circles onto the patch of skin with the pad of his thumb. The hand still entangled within the setter’s hair pulled further back, forcing Akaashi to arch his neck as Bokuto leaned in to place small bites across his jawline, lapping at the reddening areas as a sort of apology.

“Bokuto-san...” Akaashi drawled out in bliss, his breathing getting heavier by the minute and cheeks flushed from such simple skin-on-skin contact. Hearing his name drip out of Akaashi’s lips like that was pure ecstasy. He let go of Akaashi’s hair to allow his left hand to join the other, grabbing the other side of the beautiful setter’s hip as he lifted him up a bit to wedge a knee between his long, slender legs. While Akaashi began to grind against his leg at a steady pace, the ace’s attention returned to the setter’s neck, dragging his tongue at an agonizingly slow pace from the jaw to where the throat and collarbone met, before kissing his way back up to the right side of the unblemished neck. The setter quivered a bit as he felt Bokuto pause over the area, hot breath ghosting over his sensitive skin.

 _‘Needs more color,’_ Bokuto hazily thought to himself, opening his mouth to bite down hard, but not enough to draw blood. Akaashi jumped a bit at this, moving a hand to grab at Bokuto’s locks to hold him in place, his grinding becoming more sporadic. Bingo. The owl captain let his tongue continue the job, sucking at the abused flesh, while his hips rose to meet with Akaashi’s, matching with his speed. He was rewarded with the sweetest moans into his ears, his name being cut off every so often by abrupt gasps.

“ _ah_ B-Bokuto!” Akaashi wasn’t even sure where he was at this point. Just riding out whatever pleasure his captain was throwing his way was driving him mad. 

“Not yet.” Bokuto grunted out against his neck. This was their first time together and he was gonna get this foreplay thing right. Two hands enclosed themselves around the underside of Akaashi’s thighs, lifting him off the floor easily as the setter wrapped his legs around the ace with impatience. 

The taller of the two chuckled lowly as he felt restless fingers dig themselves into the blades of his shoulders, eager lips meeting his own in a fervent manner the entire way to the disheveled bed. He could definitely get used to this Akaashi; it was a welcome change from the mopey persona of earlier. The mattress creaked as it held up the weight of Bokuto’s knees and hands, golden eyes dropping down to drink in the appearance of the alluring setter pinned beneath him. Akaashi was effectively trapped between one wild captain and a dingy, sad-excuse-of a bed, and there was no place he’d rather be.

Akaashi stared in awe at the sculpted ridges of muscles that laid before him, his fingertips gliding shyly over each dip and curve of Bokuto’s chest before they moved to feel up the hard biceps that caged him to the bed. Grey-blue eyes flicked up to gauge Bokuto’s expression, as he traced his digits down the length of the owl captain’s left arm and onto the knuckles of his hand, before he pulled the palm towards his face. Once the quiet setter knew he’d capture the spiker’s attention, he made a show of plunging one of the digits between the warm, wetness of his lips, swirling a tongue around it as he began to suck down. There was a noticeable hitch in Bokuto’s breathing as he watched fully entranced, the feeling of Akaashi’s hot mouth wrapped around his finger igniting a coiled feeling within the pit of his stomach. His golden-eyes clouded over with the unmistakable glint of lust as he pulled down on the finger Akaashi was all too eager to engulf, opening the setter’s jaw to add in another digit. The sight of the wavy-haired setter shamelessly sucking him down only edged him on. Akaashi moaned unabashedly when a third was added, the sound travelling up his throat and reverberating through Bokuto’s slick fingers. The small of the setter’s hips began to jut up; grinding against the air in a feeble attempt to find any sort of friction.

Seeing this, Bokuto used his right hand to firmly hold down Akaashi’s hips, to which the setter answered with a whining noise that broke from the back of his throat. The lack of contact was driving him up the wall and he hated how he was the one without any leverage within this situation. Well, that could easily be corrected, Akaashi thought to himself as he deftly moved a hand to palm at the bulge revealing itself in the center of the briefs hovering above him. Bokuto almost keeled over from the rough touch, removing his fingers to grab Akaashi’s wrist as a guttural moan escaped him. Bursts of pleasure surged from beneath the cotton material as the setter kept up the kneading motion, before he moved up to press his lips against Bokuto’s cheek, making sure that his captain would be able to feel the curve of his smirk. That cheeky little devil. He’d pegged Akaashi to be the innocent type, but all of his actions have proven otherwise.

Bokuto spun his head to the right to seize Akaashi’s unexpecting lips, pressing forward until he covered the setter’s body with his own, boldly grinding his hardened member into the palm wrapped around it. He quite liked this little game of power-struggle they were playing, allowing Akaashi to believe that he had the owl captain putty in his hands, only to have the control stripped from his fingers in the end. However, Bokuto was getting impatient and by the tell-tale signs of creases on the setter’s forehead, Akaashi was too. Not wanting either of them to wait any longer, the ace tugged at both the ends of the slacks, eyeing Akaashi as he briskly kicked himself out of the material.

* * *

Nekoma’s captain ascended the stairs, leisurely strolling back to the room he was to share with both Bokuto and Akaashi for the night; the encounter with Tsukishima still fresh on his mind. He was about a couple of steps from the aged door, hand already reaching out to twist at the rusty knob before a muted moan struck his acute ears. Kuroo dropped his hand back to his side, using his other to ruffle his dark, messy hair in contemplation. 

On one hand, he was happy that Bokuto and Akaashi had finally gotten together. On the other, Kuroo didn’t particularly enjoy sleeping in a room that stank of sex, especially when that sex didn’t include him; though he was technically bunking in the closet. Oh how he loved yet hated his best friend at the same time.

‘Welp, looks like there’s only one fair way to settle this.’

Kuroo dug into one of the pockets of his track pants to pull out a fifty-yen coin, placing it on the nail-bed of his thumb before he proceeded to flick it up into the air. Using his free hand, he slapped the spinning coin down onto the back of his other hand with a slight sting. If it was heads, he’d leave the couple alone and bunk with man-buns and the ravioli munchkin in the living room. Now if it were tails...

The middle blocker removed the hand clasped atop the other to reveal the answer to his current predicament: Heads.

“Hm. Figures.” Kuroo shrugged.

The decrepit door expelled a horrific screeching noise when it was slammed open, the hinges nearly flying off from the amount of force the dark-haired blocker had exerted upon it. The room being hot and steamy was the understatement of the year, what with the absurd amounts of candles lit up and Bokuto’s head placed smack dab in between Akaashi’s spread legs. The middle blocker had about a good three seconds to enjoy the view before Bokuto’s back visibly tensed and nearly hit the ceiling from jumping up into a standing position. Never had he ever been so grateful to still be wearing his boxers at that very moment. 

“HEY HEY HEY! Good timing bro!” Bokuto yelled. He quickly laid down in front of a very naked Akaashi and propped his head up in a weak attempt to shield his vulnerable setter. “I was just doing some late-night hot yoga, you know, the usual.”

Kuroo snickered at his brawny best friend’s poor attempt at covering up. The moment Kuroo took one step inside the room, Bokuto extended his leg and kicked over a candle, which knocked over the one next to it and so on, causing all of them to fall in a domino effect. Small flames spread on the wooden floorboards, and soon conjoined together into a hazardous size.

“Oops!” Bokuto said with a lack of conviction in his voice.

“Ohh noo. Kuroo go get the water, the house is going to burn down at this rate.” Akaashi deadpanned. He actually preferred the whole house burning down rather than Kuroo watching him and Bokuto get it on.

 _‘HOLY SHIT, they’re crazy!’_ Kuroo thought as he ran out to get water to put out the flames.

In that time, Bokuto helped Akaashi get dressed quickly and got rid of any evidence of their passionate moment. By the time Kuroo ran back in and doused the fire with an abundant amount of water, Bokuto and Akaashi were properly clothed and casually posed on their bed.

“You saved us all Kuroo.”

“Way to go bro!! Welp, I’m tired so let’s all just call it a night, hahaha!”

Kuroo facepalmed so hard there was a stinging red outline on his face. Without another word, he headed straight into his closet, chucked a box of XL condoms at Bokuto, and slammed the door shut.

* * *

After arriving to their room on the third floor, Oikawa threw himself on the queen sized bed to sulk. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and threw their bags on top of Oikawa’s lifeless body. Their bedroom was the second largest, only slightly smaller than the master bedroom. Compared to the rest of the house it was pretty plain, the walls were bare and the only furniture aside from the bed was a dresser with a vanity. There was even a balcony in their room with a shitty view. All that could be seen was a dingy toolshed being abused by the menacing weather.

“A master bedroom with a KING sized bed are meant for KINGS like me! Now we’re stuck with this peasant cot!” Oikawa whined as he rolled around on the mattress.

“Stop calling yourself a King, Commonerkawa. You can sleep on the floor if the beds no good. More room for me.” The spiky haired ace had a smug look on his face, relishing in the idea of having the whole bed to himself.

“Iwa-chan!!! You are so mean to me! All I do is make your life better and give you something good to look at; you’re really ungrateful.”

The tanned spiker stiffened and glared at the pretentious brat that was his best friend. The two lived their whole lives as a package deal, completely inseparable since childhood. Iwaizumi was known to be a really nice and level-headed guy despite his appearance. But for some reason, Oikawa was the only one who riled him up so quick, got under his skin so fast. He assumed the reason was because they were polar opposites. Or maybe because he felt obligated to cater to Oikawa’s every need, considering the dumbass would be dead without him.

“Trust me when I say the only thing you give me is an empty bank account and a migraine. Let’s just go to sleep, I’m so tired…”

Iwaizumi wasted no time getting ready for bed, he was exhausted and needed all the sleep he could get. Nearly dying by Ukai's driving, helping Suga cook for everyone, and taking care of Trashikawa all day drained his energy. He quickly stripped down to his boxers and threw his clothes unceremoniously to the floor. Iwaizumi insisted on sleeping in minimal clothing, claiming he produced too much body heat.

This sight was nothing new to Seijoh’s captain, he often slept over at Iwaizumi’s house, usually in the same bed too. Front view of the tanner boy’s body was nothing to complain about. His thick arms were curved with toned biceps and his abs were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Oikawa’s favorite part of Iwa’s body was the defined V that was always cut off midway by undergarments that hung dangerously low. His mouth went dry from the image, as it always did when he was graced with the view.

The lighter brunet rolled to the side, making room for Iwa to take his place next to him on the bed. Oikawa quickly slabbed on moisturizer and cocooned himself in the blanket he was supposed to share with his partner. The image of Iwaizumi’s sleeping face blurred with each blink the tired setter made, until finally he too, fell asleep.

An abrupt _bang_ startled the drowsy duo. Oikawa clung to Iwaizumi’s muscular arm, scared out of his wits, while Iwa yawned and nonchalantly pawed for his baseball bat he left under their bed. (Its name was _“Hot Sauce”_.[A/N: Shoutout to Queen B])

The darker brunet scanned the bedroom for any intruders with his sharp eyes. There was nowhere to hide in the vacant room. He would have just ignored the noise and went back to sleep if he was alone. But he wasn’t alone. Oikawa was with him and he had to make sure that he was going to be safe for the night.

The muscular ace threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up to thoroughly check their surroundings. The creak of the floorboards added to the escalating suspense in the air. Oikawa subconsciously grabbed at Iwaizumi, stopping him from moving any further.

“That was probably the weird cat boy catching mice or something… You should just stay in bed with me.” Oikawa murmured, his normal sing-songy tone replaced with seriousness. 

Iwaizumi ruffled the lighter brunet’s already disheveled hair, smiling at his captain’s hidden concern for him. 

“I’ve got my bat, and you know damn well I could beat the living shit out of anything.” Iwa replied with a reassuring grin as he flexed his amazing biceps.

Oikawa released his grip and nodded his head while biting his lower lip back. After a few minutes of circling the room unable to find anything, Iwaizumi walked in front of the glass doors that led to the balcony. He pressed his forehead to the ice cold glass and peered outside. Lightning illuminated the sky for a few seconds which allowed Iwaizumi to catch a glimpse of the tool shed which was now missing its door.

“Look outside, it was just the tool shed. The door must’ve flew off cuz’ of the wind or something.” 

Relieved and exhausted, Iwaizumi tossed his bat on the floor and climbed back into bed, ready to get much needed and much deserved rest.

Oikawa was shaking like a leaf even after the mystery of the noise was solved. Iwaizumi tried to ignore the earthquake-like vibrations next to him for a good minute before he lashed around and yelled “STOP SHAKING THE ENTIRE BED FATASS-KAWA!”

“S-sorry Iwa-chan…”

Once the shaking quelled, Iwaizumi turned his back to Oikawa again and allowed himself another attempt to drift back to sleep. After a few moments, he felt something press against his back, making him shudder from the sudden warmth. The hazel eyed boy nudged further into the crease of Iwaizumi’s back, nuzzling his face right under his shoulder blade.

“What the hell are you doing…” Iwaizumi asked in a low, annoyed groan.

“Uhm... there was a bug. Y-Yeah, a bug on your back, so I wanted to squish it before it bit you! You’re welcome Iwa-chan!” 

“So you used your face to get it? I seriously wonder how you even got in the same school as me...”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, amazed at how horrible Oikawa was at lying and nudged him off his back with just enough power to move him, but not enough to send him flying off the bed. He rolled to his side, now facing the pale teary-eyed boy. Oikawa was slightly taller than Iwaizumi, but in this moment he looked and felt so much smaller. The ace let out a long sigh of exasperation. He wrapped one arm around Oikawa’s waist and pulled him closer while using the other arm to pull the blanket over their bodies. Iwaizumi glanced downwards and saw a light shade of pink dusted over his best friend’s face.

“Honestly Shittykawa, you’re so tiring to deal with.”

“Mean Iwa-chan, you’re so mean…” the lighter brunet mumbled. 

Oikawa place his head perfectly at the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, his frayed hair brushing the tanner boy’s jawline. Long eyelashes tickled Iwaizumi’s sternum while he stroked the taller boy’s back in a soothing manner. Once Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s chest gently lift and fall against his own, he tilted his head down and placed a chaste kiss on a tuft of fluffy brown hair before falling asleep.

**CRASH**

Another booming noise woke the pair for the second time that night. Iwaizumi jumped up and grabbed his bat quickly, the noise was twice as loud as the first. He knew it came from inside the house, and at a close vicinity too. Oikawa’s doe like eyes shot wide open in absolute terror.

The taller boy quickly lunged at Iwaizumi who was already halfway to the door. Pale arms desperately wrapping around the ace’s bare body.

“No no no no no no NO! Iwa-chan, you are NOT going out there! What if it’s some psychopath!? Just let him kill Tobio-chan and Chibi-chan or something!!” Oikawa begged as frantic tears began pooling around his eyes.

Iwaizumi could see how horrified Oikawa was, hell he was scared shitless too, but something like this couldn’t be ignored. Oikawa fell to his knees and latched onto Iwa’s shin begging his best friend not to leave the safety of their room. Iwaizumi knelt down and scooped him up with one arm and placed him back on the bed.

“It’s alright, I’m just going to take a quick glance, I’ll be right back. No more than five minutes, okay?” The spiky haired ace wiped a stray tear away with the back of his index finger.

“Please Iwa-chan don’t..”

“Here, just in case anything happens while I'm gone,” Iwaizumi placed his baseball bat over Oikawa’s lap. 

“Iwa-chan, please please don’t g-”

“ _Tooru_. Trust me.” Iwaizumi quickly pecked Oikawa’s forehead and flashed one of his rare dazzling grins, which rendered Aoba Johsai’s captain speechless. 

Before Oikawa could say anything else, the tanner boy turned and dashed out the door, leaving Oikawa in the dark room that felt even bigger now that his best friend was gone.

Iwaizumi found the source of the abrupt noise the moment he stepped foot outside of his bedroom. The chandelier that hung between his room and the bathroom was now missing. All that was left was a rusty chain dangling from the the wind that slipped through damaged walls. Iwaizumi walked up to the rail that framed the space where the chandelier should have been. 

Green eyes stared down the space from the third floor to the first floor. Crystals were scattered everywhere, the shards reflecting the occasional lightning that beamed outside. The chandelier smashed directly in front of the staircase, blocking access completely because of its grand size. He squinted his eyes in attempt to get a better view of the damage. Iwaizumi’s body suddenly froze as he processed what he was seeing. His heartbeat stilled and his breathing ceased when a steady stream of blood flowed outwards from the center of the destroyed chandelier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because of various reasons my life is spiraling into a whirlpool of hell so i have to update every other week now, sorry folks!!


	5. 12:00 am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~sorry~~

One by one the occupants of the house emerged from their rooms to see just what the hell was going on. Iwaizumi and Oikawa descended the stairs first at lightning speed, alarming everyone that there was an emergency.

“GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE, NOW!!” Oikawa yelled, at the top of his lungs. The blood was beginning to etch itself farther out, pooling in the dents of the floorboards. Everyone needed to act fast; the chandelier barely dropped a minute ago, so maybe the person trapped under could still be saved!

Those on the first floor were on one side of the shattered chandelier while everyone on the second floor and above were blocked at the staircase on the other side.

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened in fear when he counted the heads present. There were only twelve people currently here.

“Where’s Daichi, Kenma, and Tanaka?!” The normally quiet pinch server asked, as his eyes darted around frantically.

Kageyama shot a quick glance at Hinata, with beads of sweat rolling down his temple.

“Uhh Kenma’s in the bathroom still, he’s busy right now…”

Hinata nodded his head vigorously to agree with Kageyama’s blatant lie. Kenma wasn’t even in the bathroom anymore. They actually shoved him in the storage closet next to the bathroom before they came down. It seemed better than being knocked out cold on the bloody bathroom tiles.

Suga began to feel his heart rate pick up, Daichi had left minutes ago saying he wanted to get a drink, but the kitchen was desolate. His throat constricted and his legs began to tremble, he could feel the bile in his stomach trying to urge itself upwards.

“Daichi, where are you?! You’re just in the bathroom right?!” The silver haired setter desperately called out.

Standing in front of the red stream, Nishinoya was nearing a panic attack. _‘What if Ryu came up?!’_ Nishinoya’s mind became hyperactive, suddenly blaming himself if the body underneath really was his friend. He was a heavy sleeper, so he wouldn’t have woken up if Tanaka did in fact, come up the stairs.

“We can’t waste a single second you guys!” Iwaizumi called out as he gripped onto the metallic rim of the colossal chandelier. Hidden pieces of glass still attached to the metal pierced the ace’s hands, but he gritted his teeth through the pain and began heaving upwards. 

Everyone backed up to give space for Oikawa, Kuroo, and Bokuto to spread alongside Iwa to grab a portion of the ring on their side. Asahi used his brute strength to carry majority of the weight on the other side along with assistance from Noya. They slowly lifted the wreck and moved it off to the side of the first floor, careful to avoid stepping on stray crystal bits.

While the stronger boys were busy moving the heavy load, Akaashi quickly approached the victim with his first aid kit in hand. Tsukishima stood silently next to Akaashi, ready to assist Fukurodani’s setter if he needed it.

Akaashi was naturally light to begin with, but there was no mistaking that he paled to porcelain white. His eyes widened momentarily before crinkling in anguish. He looked back at Tsukki, whose face remained unchanged, but Akaashi caught the way Tsukki stepped back and held onto the rail of the staircase to catch his balance. Together, they slowly turned their heads to Suga with guilty expressions.

Suga dropped to his knees. He had yet to see anything, but the sympathetic glances he got from Akaashi and Tsukishima said more than enough. There were no tears, no weeping; he just sat. For the first time that night, everyone was silent. In the heavy atmosphere the only thing that could be heard was the staccato rhythm of rain tapping against the house. 

Hinata ran to Suga, wrapping his arms around him as tears streamed down his own face, thinking that this was the only way to keep his senior from breaking apart. Kageyama turned his head away from everyone and wiped his eyes, swearing under his breath.

The others who finished moving the crystal remnants returned to an impaled Daichi. His eyes were closed and blood was drenched all over his body. The originally white T-shirt was now completely doused in crimson. A rigid gap was present at the center of his chest; the tip of the chandelier had punctured him clean through. The precision was ominous. 

Asahi and Yamaguchi averted their eyes from the gruesome sight, doing all they could to not vomit from the gore. Akaashi put his first aid kit to use and tended to Iwaizumi’s wounded hand, trying to keep himself busy before his mind registered the fact that someone he knew just died under the same roof as him. Iwaizumi’s hand was completely numb to the throbbing pain, but he felt every stinging twinge in his heart when he looked up at Suga.

Kuroo went inside the master bedroom with Bokuto and returned with a bed sheet to cover the nauseating display. The fabric began soaking up the red liquid and dispersing on the cloth. Though their efforts did not conceal much, it was better than seeing Daichi in his current state. Kuroo noticed something gripped tightly in a bloody fist that peeked out of the covers. He felt the the cooling sensation against his own warm hand as he pried open stiff fingers and pulled out a mysterious black box from Daichi’s palm. He rotated the box curiously and proceeded to inspect the contents. 

“I think this is for you.”

Kuroo approached the motionless setter and presented the little box to him. Suga took the box from the tall boy with a blank expression and opened the tiny container.

The tears that should have came before were pouring out now. One after another, tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. The silver haired boy gave out an airy laugh as his breath kept hitching in his throat. Losing what strength he had left, he allowed the tears to flood out and wailed to his heart's content.

In his hand was a sterling silver ring with a small diamond encrusted in the center. Both he and Daichi’s names were inscribed inside the thin band. It was plain, but nonetheless beautiful. Within the box, a message was printed under the ring in gold lettering.

_‘Thank you for the past three years, Koushi.’_

The silver haired boy smiled as the tears continued to trickle down his milky cheeks. Not caring about how much of a mess he looked like, or the incoherent cries he was making, Suga allowed himself the liberty of feeling all the emotions that rushed over him in that moment. He slipped the sterling ring onto his left ring finger; a perfect fit.

Daichi wasn’t the type to forget.

* * *

A proper burial was deemed impossible with the steadily growing storm outside. Everyone who was present decided they would hold a memorial service for Daichi immediately and afterwards, someone would be burdened with the task of taking the body down to the furnace to cremate Karasuno’s captain.

Oikawa surrounded Daichi’s covered body with candles, the flickering flames made little shadows that danced over the white and red blotched fabric. The men lined up and approached the couch Daichi’s body was laid on one by one. Some silently prayed while others said their final goodbyes, hoping to find some sort of closure from the abrupt death.

“There’s something that I’ve always wanted to tell you Daichi…,” Bokuto started. He took a deep breath and continued on, “Two years ago… when we met at training camp for the first time… You were really pissed at Kuroo, cus’ you thought he ate all your Shoyu Ramen… But it was actually me. I wanted to confess, but you sent my bro to the hospital for two weeks so I was too scared to tell you the truth!!” Bokuto buried his face in his hands as tears of shame welled in his golden eyes. Kuroo grasped the collar of Bokuto’s shirt and lifted him off the floor to meet eye to eye.

“So it WAS you this entire time, you son of a bitch!!” Kuroo spat while Fukurodani’s captain guiltily looked away.

“We are in the middle of a funeral for Sawamura-san right now.” Akaashi stated in a somber tone. The quiet setter ushered the rambunctious captains to the back, disgruntled at the inappropriate behavior of his seniors.

All of the boys present paid their respects, the last person to approach the makeshift altar was none other than Suga. His eyes were swollen and pink, but the tears finally came to a halt, as there was none left in him. Everyone stood behind Suga completely mute.

_‘What the hell am I supposed to say with all these people here?’_

Sugawara never imagined to depart from Daichi like this; the way he envisioned it, Daichi’s hair color would have matched his own and their skin would have been creased. It felt like all of their plans for the future together were now empty promises, and the late nights they spent whispering sweet nothings to each other was a distant memory. He didn’t prepare a soliloquy or a declaration of love for his captain like the audience had anticipated. All he knew was that the rock of his life and of Karasuno was gone. The others were there for support but unfortunately their presence only took away the privacy that Suga wanted with Daichi, so instead he took one last look at Daichi’s broad silhouette, kissed his ring, and walked towards the back of the living room whispering _“Happy Anniversary”_ to no one but himself.

After the memorial service, Nishinoya had agreed to take responsibility for bringing Daichi’s body down the boiler room. He didn’t want his team mates to see the dreadful sight more than they had to, but more importantly, he had to see Tanaka with his own eyes to rest his doubts.

* * *

A slight frame trudged down the narrow hallway that led to Tanaka’s piss poor living quarters, a hefty body slung over their shoulder as they pushed forward at a sedated pace. Nishinoya would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about dragging his captain across the floor several times before, but that would only serve to deface Daichi even further and that was the last thing the loyal libero would’ve wanted.

But fuck, his right shoulder was practically stabbing with pain. He cursed at his small stature as he carefully knelt down, allowing Daichi’s limp body to slide into a pathetic pile of crumpled limbs; the contorted sight making the lifelessness that much more noticeable. Squatting down next to the corpse, Nishinoya finally allowed his emotions to overtake him, weeping quietly in the privacy of the desolate hallway. This wasn’t even the hard part. No, the hardest part had yet to come. The libero didn’t dare to think about how Tanaka was going to handle their captain’s death. 

Shuddering breaths were sucked in harshly as Nishinoya yanked out a blunt from his back pocket, lighting it up with trembling hands. He threw the used match off to the side, glad that the smoke helped somewhat in masking the smell of the gore currently laying next to him. If Nishinoya had to be the one to lay the facts out to Tanaka, he’d sure as hell rather not do it sober. 

The tiny player took another slow drag, spewing wispy strings of smoke into the darkness as he used the palm of his other hand to wipe at eyes that were reddening with tears. Once he felt the familiar high, Nishinoya stood up, stumbling a bit from the light-headedness that came as an after effect. The joint had done wonders in numbing his senses as he grabbed at Daichi’s collar, pulling the muscular mass over his shoulder with ease before he began his drugged wobble back towards the menacing door that sat at the end of the hall. 

Pink eyes peered down the stairways of the boiler room as the rusted door cracked open, a lighted match allowing only several feet of sight ahead of Nishinoya. The libero leaned down a bit further, using the stair’s handles to hold his body up. An unhinged smile broke out on his face as he struggled to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in his chest, only to fail miserably. Holy shit, it felt like he was flying. No this was wrong! How could he be laughing when Daichi’s very dead body was currently leaning up against him?! But it was too late, the weed was just too dank this time around and Nishinoya could hardly stop himself from making airplane noises as he hoisted both his legs up onto the stair rails as well. Leaning from side to side, the inebriated libero mimicked a fighter jet that was driven by a drunk pilot, currently spiraling downwards into a Donald Trump rally. 

His euphoria was cut short when Nishinoya felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Literally.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

Daichi’s body slid off the back of Karasuno’s Guardian Deity, propelling into the darkness by only the pull of gravity. Nishinoya hopped back down, wincing a bit as he heard the missile-like projectile smack dully into something. Well that was weird.. he was expecting the unmistakable crunch of bones hitting against the pavement.

“AUGHHHHH!!” 

Now there was a familiar voice. Nishinoya teetered down the rest of the stairs, following the sounds of aggravated screaming.

“The hell was that?! ..hurt like a bitch- OH MY GOD!!” Tanaka’s heart almost flat-lined at the haggard sight of his teammate. Two inexplicably pink eyes stared back at him almost apologetically.

“Nishinoya, that you?? You reek of weed man! Actually do you still have some left? I’ve been so stressed ever since I stepped foot into this hell hole, so seeing you is like a breath of fresh air!”

Nishinoya didn’t reply, just continued to stare back in his zombie-like haze.

“Well not really, considering how you stank of dank, hahahah am I right??”

Still nothing.

“Uhh… can you liven up just a bit dude? Seriously, I thought I was about to be dead meat this past hour.”

At this, Nishinoya began to laugh uncontrollably while tightly holding onto his belly, the sound coming out hoarse from all the smoking and crying he did earlier. Tanaka looked on in awkward confusion before he began to slowly join in, forced laughter falling from his lips. The bald wing spiker felt stiffer than any morning wood he’d ever had in his life.

“Haha..ha...speaking of dead,” the libero let out another unbalanced cackle at the mention of the last word, pointing down at Tanaka’s feet.

Still laughing with painful rigidness, the baldy moved his lit match towards his knees as he looked down. Hmm, now that couldn’t be right. He could’ve sworn he was hit with a boulder, but after taking a good look, he noticed cropped dark brown hai-

Tanaka shrieked as he kicked the body away in reflex before slipping down into the puddle of blood that had formed from the captain’s open wound.

“NISHINOYAAAA TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME GOD!!!!!!”

Another low growl could be heard as one of the crosses still hanging on the walls flew off and rudely smacked him in the arm. Tanaka slapped his face for forgetting that they were still sharing a room with the Antichrist, but all that succeeded in doing was wiping more of Daichi’s fresh blood on his face.

He glanced back at Nishinoya only to find the smaller libero rocking back and forth in a curled fetal position, sobbing inconsolably as he kept chanting the word “cremate” over and over again. It took Tanaka an entire minute before the cogs in his brain started to move together, the full weight of the situation finally hitting him, and hitting him hard. Nishinoya wasn’t here to pay a friendly visit. The shakened libero was here to inform him of their captain’s untimely death and was most likely trying to ask him to help with the process of cremating the body. Why else would he burden himself with the heavy task of bringing Daichi’s body down to the boiler room of all places?

That’s it, the shock of his captain’s death was beginning to be too much to take in all at once. Tanaka used an elbow to lean over as he hurled up tonight’s less than satisfying dinner.

“Tanaka… I..I don’t know- it all happened so fast..wish I could’ve done more...should’ve done more- ”

Nishinoya stumbled over his words during his ludicrous state of mind before Tanaka held a hand up, stopping his friend’s incessant blabbering. The wing spiker reached a hand out to grab at Nishinoya’s unruly hair, pulling the smaller boy’s forehead into his shoulder before speaking.

“Dude, it’s not your fault. So stop fucking acting like it is.” ( _“We’re all in this together”_ begins to play in the background.) Though Tanaka laid out some harsh, but needed words for Nishinoya, the baldy couldn’t help the stray tears that fell down his face also. Dadchi was gone forever and they needed to accept the fact that he was somewhere up above, happily building a shed or doing some other dad shit.

Tanaka waited for Nishinoya’s breathing to even out again before he let go, moving to pick up the body he had kicked away earlier. Suga would have his ass mounted in the living room if he ever found out, the baldy thought as a chill ran down his spine. Daichi was picked up bridal style as Tanaka moved him towards a conveniently placed incinerator that Nishinoya was busy unlatching. They threw some coal that was left to the side into the opening, tossing a match in also to light it after they felt like there was enough fuel inside to burn up a teenaged-dad hybrid’s body. 

“So uhh…how do we do this? Do we chop him up or like...just kinda dump him in there?”

“Brah you’re looking at me like I know how to get rid of fresh corpses on the daily.”

“Aiight, I’ll just dump him in I guess,” Tanaka gave a solemn salute before he hefted the limp body into the mouth of the incinerator, but his pitch fell short as only Daichi’s upper half made it in. The wing spiker grabbed at his legs as he began to awkwardly move around to find the right position. Maybe he should’ve chopped up Daichi just a little. He did this for a couple more minutes before Nishinoya pushed him aside, hammering away at the disjointed legs with a shovel he’d picked up somehow in the darkness, before the lower half finally made it in. They both agreed that Suga didn’t need to know any of the details of this cremation.

“Good night sweet prince.”

Tanaka took the forgotten joint placed behind Nishinoya’s ear and finished it off quickly. He threw the butt of it into the flames, allowing Daichi’s ashes to meld and become one with the blunt. A truly lit farewell. 

Sentimentality aside, Nishinoya closed the incinerator door, trying his best to hold back a sniffle as he turned to face his baldy of a teammate. Placing a reassuring hand on the libero’s shoulder, Tanaka flaunted his trademark bodhisattva face, as if to say that everything will be alright when it wasn’t. The shorter player’s eyes began to water up again as he placed his smaller hand over his friend’s, ready to spew something cheesy, but was thankfully stopped when a glowing blue light blinded the both of them.

The two stared on in disbelief as an apparition materialized in front of them, emitting a long, drawn out ghostly wail. Tanaka held up both his fists in a delinquent fighting stance as Nishinoya plopped on a pair of sunglasses that he extracted from the dark depths of his fluffy locks. People say that’s why his hair’s so big. It’s full of secrets. 

The dispersed cloud of eerie blue light finally conjoined into one glowing mass, allowing the image of a pathetic looking individual to come into view; the figure seemed to be a balding middle-aged man sporting a t-shirt that read _“No Senpai, No Life”_ and a pair of Harry Potter-esque glasses that was taped in the middle, most likely due to over exerting activities, such as being bullied. A VIP backstage pass for a Hatsune Miku concert hung around his sweaty neck like a prized gold chain, seeing as how the pass was placed inside of a separate container complete with a padlock. The dude reeked of both disappointment and unemployment to say the least.

“...Konnichiwa.”

Tanaka dropped his fists, opting to point an accusing finger at the phantom instead.

“OTAKU!” the bald wing spiker shouted.

“Hold on a minute, can’t we all be nakama here?!”

With no holy water in the vicinity, Nishinoya chose to swing the shovel at the wraith instead, hitting Tanaka every now and then due to his choice of wearing sunglasses in the dark. 

“Ugh, listen to me you BAKAS!! I know how your friend died!”

The shovel was dropped immediately and both Tanaka and Nishinoya looked up in dumb curiosity, eyebrows quirked up and mouths agape.

“That’s right, I know WHO killed him. But I’m not saying anything unless you two agree to my terms.” The nerdy ghost stroked at his unkempt beard with a smirk as he waited for a reply, only to get another swing of the shovel as a response. His body became wispy for a moment as it was cut in half, but then forged back together just as fast as it was separated.

“ _(snort)_ Haven’t you guys watched enough anime to know that ghosts can’t be physically harmed? _(snort snort)_ ” the ghost asked with a roll of his eyes, nudging his hysterical looking glasses back up as it slid down from all his scoffing. It was like he was talking to a bunch of monkeys.

“Shut up you dirty otaku!” the feisty libero growled. 

Tanaka pushed Nishinoya out of the way as he yelled over him.

“FIRST of all, how do we know if we can even trust you?!”

“Ah good question,“ the specter pondered as he leisurely turned another page of the Magical Girl Madoka manga that he was currently reading, “You won’t. You can either take my word for it or stay in the dark about your friend’s unfortunate death.”

Finding the weeby ghost’s snooty attitude to be particularly annoying, Tanaka walked right into the otaku’s personal space, slowly drawing his crazed face closer and closer, stopping only when their eyes were about three centimeters apart. Surprisingly, the floating middle-aged man was able to pale even further despite being in his pitiful ghostly form. 

“So what are these terms, huh? **SHITTY BOY**?” 

Some spittle from Tanaka’s outburst flew past the dead otaku’s flinching form, as two pudgy hands began to raise up defensively.

“EEEK!! Ov-ver there!!” A glowing blue finger quickly pointed to a corner that was a bit past the incinerator. He sucked in a breath before continuing.

“I-I have OCD and because of it, my dishonored soul can’t be lifted to the heavens until my private library collection is organized alphabetically...”

“DONE.”

Tanaka couldn’t believe how easy it was to appease the weeb, smiling triumphantly as he plodded towards Nishinoya, who was already bent over in the aforementioned corner. The lit match in the libero’s hand revealed an endless mound of premium hentai magazines strewn across the cold pavement, depicting titties so gigantic that the bodies of the bug-eyed women adorning them looked like deflated balloons in comparison. 

“NOT DONE.”

Tanaka broke out in a cold sweat. He thought there would only be about twenty to organize, but instead he was bombarded with two thousand. The second year spiker wasn’t even entirely confident he knew his ABC’s. Hopefully Noya would be able to come clutch for them. Nishinoya shoved a hand into the monster of a pile and randomly yanked out a dirty magazine, hoping in the back of his mind that it wasn’t already jizzed on. His dark brows furrowed as he spotted the date printed on the bottom right of the cover.

“Uhhh brah, this issue came out five years ago.” Nishinoya whispered under his breath, “Dude, how long have you been haunting this basement for…?”

“Ah yes, I remember it like it was yesterday…,” The weeby spirit started. “My Okaa-san kept telling me to get a job and a girlfriend, so I decided to marry my body pillow that very night to make her happy! She was against my relationship with pillow-chan so I got angry, packed up my things, and ran away from my parent’s basement… to this basement, where I died from starvation right before the Hatsune Miku concert. I know, it’s so tragic, but you don’t need to shed any tears for me.” The ghost sniffled as he began to gently caress the glass covering his concert pass over and over again. 

The Karasuno boys looked at each other before glancing back at the glowing fatass in unison. “Alright shitty boy, no one asked for your backstory. We’ll sort your sub-par pornographic trash for you, but you’d better not hold out on our end of the deal!” At this, the otaku’s eye’s sparkled with the innocence of a flat-chested schoolgirl who had just bumped into the love of her life, as she rounded the corner, late for school with a toast in her mouth. 

“Arigato!!! My kokoro is literally going _doki doki_ with joy right now!” The ghost squealed as both Tanaka and Nishinoya rolled up their sleeves to prepare for the certain agony. This was gonna be a sleepless night of sifting through comically gigantic boobs; a fair price to pay in order to find out the truth about their captain’s death.

* * *

Above level, everyone solemnly cleaned up the remaining glass and blood that didn’t stain the floorboards. Suga had finally cried himself to sleep in the middle of the foyer, still sniffling a bit even in slumber. Asahi carefully lifted up his vice captain, making sure that Suga wouldn’t wake up and face reality once more. Karasuno’s ace brought the silver haired setter back into his room and put him in his futon.

At this point, those on the first floor broke off and headed back to their respective rooms. They were all emotionally shocked and needed well deserved sleep.

“Okay but does this mean we get the master bedroom now?” Oikawa muttered as he and Iwaizumi made their way to the third floor.

“Jesus Christ Assikawa, do you even feel remotely bad for Karasuno’s vice captain? Or their team for that matter?” 

“Of course I do! I’m not that heartless. I feel as sad as that time you bought me _Suave_ shampoo instead of _Paul Mitchell_. My hair was almost as tragic as yours after one use.”

“You’re fucking terrible.” Iwaizumi smacked the back of Oikawa’s head, nearly matching the strength of one of his spikes.

“OW! Iwa-chan are you trying to make me the second casualty of the night?!” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head, trying to relieve the throbbing pain. 

The idea of losing Oikawa made Iwaizumi stop dead in his tracks just as he made it up the steps. He couldn’t and didn’t want to know how it felt to be in Sugawara’s shoes right now. The thought immediately made the spiky haired ace regret not treating Oikawa more kindly.

Oikawa stopped a few steps behind his ace, confused as to why Iwaizumi was silent. Normally he'd get a “Shut up Shittykawa!” or some other rude remark with a unique nickname. Oikawa knew the darker brunet in front of him like the back of his hand. That’s why when Iwaizumi turned around with a frown and knitted eyebrows, Oikawa was taken aback. 

“Don’t joke about that, Tooru.” 

With that, Iwaizumi turned and continued his way to their bedroom. Oikawa reached out and grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand instinctively. The tanner boy flinched, but turned to face Oikawa with a poker face.

“What is it now?” Iwa asked with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

The lighter brunet quickly released his grip when he realized he was holding Iwaizumi’s injured hand. He averted his eyes, slightly embarrassed of his own subconscious actions. Oikawa’s eyes slid across the floor looking at anything but Iwaizumi, until he caught a glimpse of something interesting. Something _very_ interesting. His chocolate brown orbs widened when he spotted a pair of hedge trimmers discarded to the side of the third floor. Upon earlier inspection, Oikawa did not recall them being there before. 

Seijoh's captain made his way to the mysterious tool. He picked the giant blades up and observed every detail meticulously. The hedge trimmers were definitely not brand new, as the handle was dirty and the color was faded, but the blades were still very sharp and sturdy. A cloth wrapped around the handle was damp, and tiny droplets of water were sprinkled around the metallic edge. His eyes ran over the sharpened side of the blade and saw specs of red-orange dust. 

“That looks a lot like rust…” Iwaizumi said lowly, making sure only Oikawa could hear him.

They both simultaneously turned their attentions to the corroded chain dangling from the ceiling of the third floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe i did this to my dad :-S


	6. Where Did You Come From, Where Did You Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where he go??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head editor back at it with the chapter art yeeehaw

Kageyama and Hinata made sure to wake up at the brink of dawn, with hopes of settling some business before anyone else woke up. The first years carefully made their way down the brittle ladder and nearly broke into a run towards the storage closet next to the communal bathroom. Last night they had shoved Kenma’s unconscious body into the small space and forgotten all about him due to the the tragic turn of events. Hinata turned the knob and slowly opened the door, making the hinge of the shabby door squeak open.

“Goddammit! Can’t you do anything right?!” Kageyama criticized. He gave Hinata a sharp smack on the back of his head. “We can’t let anyone find out about this!”

“Kenm- OH NO!”

“Shut up!”

The raven haired setter raised his hand to smack the shit out of Hinata for a second time, but froze in place when he looked inside the cramped room.

“God _damn_ it.” Kageyama let out a long sigh. Of course of all people, Kenma would be the one to make shit more complicated than it needed to be.

The closet was currently unoccupied. Only outlines of blood on the floor served as remnants of Kenma’s missing body. 

“Maybe he woke up and went back to sleep in the bathroom again, or he’s taking a shit or something.” 

“Kageyama don’t say ‘shit’! Say ‘poop’ instead!” Hinata griped as the two made their way back to the scene of the crime. Karasuno’s setter secretly hated Kenma for a multitude of reasons. First off, that detached attitude of Kenma’s really pissed him off. It was in Kenma’s DNA to be aloof, but the amount of fucks the guy didn’t give showed in volleyball practice and his crappy dye job. Kageyama was also disgusted at the fact that Nekoma’s second year acted more like a cat than a human, but the main reason he couldn't stand the pudding-headed furry was because he was certain that the both of them had their eyes on the same prize… Hinata.

As much as Kageyama loved the idea of Kenma getting scooped up by an Animal Shelter van to be neutered and given to an old cat lady, he was responsible for finding the quiet boy. After all, Kageyama _did_ knock him out and shove him in closet, stark-naked with poor reasoning.

The raven haired setter quickly surveyed through the communal bathroom which turned out to be just as vacant as the storage closet adjacent to it. Hinata being Hinata, sprinted around the third floor in circles, occasionally making a pitstop at places he thought the setter might have hidden in, like the trash bins.

“Oi Boke, I think I figured out a way to find Kenma…” 

Unlike Hinata, Kageyama actually had a brain and used his time to develop a thorough plan, rather than wasting energy running in circles.

After five minutes, Kageyama returned to Hinata and dropped an armful of items on the floor. The items consisted of a ball of yarn, a dead rat he luckily found on the way back, and a small plastic bag full of what seemed to be catnip, which was secretly dug out of Kuroo’s bag. There were so many questionable things in that man’s bag.

“If we can’t come to him, he can come to us instead!” Swageyama exclaimed, clearly impressed by his own straightforward idea.

“You’re a genius Kageyama!” Hinata chimed. He too, was in awe of Kageyama’s simple train of thought.

Together, they created a trail of yarn laced with catnip and threw the giant dead rat at the end of the path as the final touch. This plan was foolproof; Hinata knew Kenma well enough to know that the blonde setter was a total slut for these three things. _‘Kageyama’s really outdone himself this time!’_ The shorter boy thought.

“Okay, this should be good enough. Now all we have to do is wait for a good five minutes.” The raven haired setter said.

Three and a half minutes had passed and the impatient first years were growing doubtful of their plan. Kenma had yet to make an appearance and every second began to feel like an hour. Just then, a twitch could be seen at the end of the path. Kageyama squinted his eagle eyes, hoping to get a glimpse of a red volleyball jacket and long blonde hair. 

_‘Oh shit.’_

The jittery movements at the end of the hall weren’t from Kenma, but rather a mutant sized rat that was supposed to be dead. The gigantic rodent suddenly got up on all fours and stared directly at Hinata. It nibbled at the end of the yarn and suddenly grew increasingly agitated. The hairy little beast flipped its head side to side aggressively and began hissing.

“Shit shit **shit** …” Kageyama breathed. He slowly backed up two paces and pushed Hinata along with his arm. “That white stuff isn’t catnip… IT’S COCAINE.”

The rat broke into a frenzy and charged right at the two hopeless idiots with white foam trickling out of its mouth. It ran at lightspeed and sprang onto Hinata’s face sinking its claws into both sides of the young boy’s cheeks.

“AHHHHHHHhhhh KAGEYAMA GET IT OFF OF ME!!!”

“HINATA BE QUIET! Just hold still!!” Kageyama yelled, clearly panicking too much to realize that he was contradicting himself. He didn’t want to pull the rat off because it’s claws would drag and scar Hinata’s cute face, but he also didn’t want to touch it because it reminded him too much of Kenma. Yes, in truth Kenma was nothing more than a dirty rat to the navy haired setter despite his cat-like qualities. Hinata continued to scream hysterically as the rabid rat spit it’s foam everywhere whilst dangling on his face.

“HELP ME ALREADY!!”

Should he just take his chances and pull it off and hope for the best? Or just leave Hinata to get mauled by the New York sized rat? How much was plastic surgery anyways? So many thoughts charged through Kageyama’s brain at once, until suddenly his mind went blank. His vision blurred and Hinata’s cries were tuned out. Before he knew it, he was in the air spinning and kicked Hinata square in the face along with the mutant rat. Fortunately, it flew right into a wall where it was taken out of its misery upon impact. When Hinata fell down to the floor with a thud, the raven haired setter had realized then that he just roundhouse kicked his crush in the face.

“Fuck! Hinata you dumbass, why’d you have to start screaming!?”

Kageyama knelt on the floor and helped Hinata up, who had a stream of blood dripping down his nostril. The shorter boy got up and dusted himself off and thanked Kageyama for saving him from the colossal rodent; Hinata was truly the epitome of resilience. The setter quickly swiped Hinata’s nose with the sleeve of his jacket and sighed. Once he knew that the object of his affections wasn’t severely injured, he stood back up and ran his hand through his hair.

“Where the hell is that blonde furball?” The navy haired setter asked angrily.

“Maybe he’s using a litter box somewhere?”

* * *

Oikawa woke up wrapped up in Iwaizumi’s brawny arms. He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed that he slept flush against his best friend’s almost-naked skin. Their friendship was a bit strange; they were best friends that did things best friends normally didn’t do. The two just accepted their relationship for what it was and didn’t ponder too deeply about it, though Oikawa had recently become aware of his growing attraction towards the tan spiker. He peered down to see Iwa sleeping with his mouth slightly open, a speck of drool escaping the corner of his lips. _‘Gross. But cute.’_ Oikawa thought. The lighter brunet swiped off the saliva with the corner of his blanket waking Iwaizumi in the process.

“Hnngh… Morning idiot.” Iwaizumi yawned.

“Iwa-chan you insult me first thing in the morning!” Oikawa complained. Iwaizumi’s already deep voice was even huskier in the morning, and the sound of it made Oikawa’s stomach do backflips. He wouldn’t mind being insulted and sworn at all day so long as he got to hear Iwaizumi’s seductive morning voice.

Oikawa’s deft hands travelled up Iwaizumi’s rippled back and gently drew circles with his nails, earning a groan of approval from the rugged man. Surprisingly, the two slept rather well considering their circumstances. Their bed was an ancient piece of shit but Iwaizumi’s arm managed to make it comfortable enough for Oikawa to fall asleep last night.

Iwaizumi brought his hand up to the lighter brunet’s head and played with the strands of hair that framed his face. He caressed a little wave with his thumb and index finger. There was something soothing about how Oikawa’s hair smelled, the way it felt, and the way it bounced around when he made the slightest movement.

“I was thinking… remember last night, when we woke up the first time around?” Oikawa randomly asked while perking his head up at his ace.

“Yeah the shed busted open cuz’ of the shitty weather, what about it?”

“I don’t think it was a coincidence… The hedgetrimmer was _wet_ when we found it… What if it came from the toolshed? That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Lots of people thought Oikawa was an air-headed idiot outside of the volleyball court, but Iwaizumi knew full and well that his best friend’s deduction skills were nothing to laugh at. Rather than replying, he released Oikawa from his arms and rubbed his eyes.

The paler boy got out of bed first and bent down to pick up his ace’s discarded clothes. He patted the dust off of them and handed it to Iwa, who was now sitting up and stretching. Their room was dimly lit although it was already morning. Only their cell phones and watches could determine if it was day or night. Oikawa seated himself at the vanity to apply cleansing cream and other various lotions because being stranded in the middle of nowhere was not an excuse to stray from his beauty regimen.

“Iwa-chan, let’s just keep it between us for now, and keep an eye out for anything or _anyone_ suspicious.”

Iwaizumi finished dressing and leaned over Oikawa, who was busy applying concealer under his eyes. Oikawa could see the serious expression on Iwaizumi’s face in the reflection of the mirror, he felt a bit guilty for having laid heavy thoughts on his partner this early, but it couldn't be helped. The shorter man sighed as he ran his fingers through the lighter brunet’s hair, brushing the messy waves into place. 

“Got it Captain.”

* * *

Tsukishima woke up earlier than Yamaguchi, as always. Within moments of waking up, a frown was already beginning to spread over his pallid face. His long legs hung off the tiny bed for the majority of the night, and the the rustling noises Yamaguchi made when he tossed and turned on the floor made it even harder for Tsukki to sleep. The blonde middle blocker stood up to reach for his glasses on the bunk bed above him, an audible crunch could be heard with his first step; followed by a sharp cry of pain.

Under his size 9.5 (in mens) foot was Yamaguchi’s smooshed face. The freckled pinch server’s nose was nearly inverted from the force of Tsukki’s step. The taller removed his foot slower than he should have, and grimaced at the unnecessarily loud noise Yamaguchi had made.

“Shut the hell up Yamaguchi... It’s not even noon yet.” The salty blocker growled. Tsukishima was exceptionally salty in the morning, or more accurately, when he woke up. He had .01% tolerance for annoying things in general, but when he was in a foul mood the slightest inconvenience would make him unleash hell on Earth.

Yamaguchi held his breath and waited for a second stomp in the face as punishment for his sudden outburst. When his best friend’s foot didn’t collide with his half-broken nose, he peered up to see Tsukishima with a hand slapped over his eyes and taking a long breath.

“Get our toothbrushes in my duffel bag downstairs, left pocket.” The middle blocker ordered.

 _Wow!_ This was a rather simple task. Tsukki usually demanded something more complicated in the mornings like pancakes shaped into Brachiosaurus’ with authentic Canadian maple syrup drizzled on top. Maybe he was cutting Yamaguchi some slack after last night; Tsukki sure did have a big heart! The pinch server beamed with delight and quickly responded with a “Sure thing, Tsukki!” This was the nicest thing Tsukishima had done for him in the past three weeks and counting, so of course he hopped right up and skipped out of the room to do his task.

Tsukishima took this time to sit back down on his bed, close his eyes, and let his head fall back as he thought about all of the events that happened the day before. Their coach had left fifte- well, now fourteen high schoolers completely unattended in the middle of nowhere while he was probably motorboating some broad’s jugs. His mom and his older brother, Akiteru, wouldn’t even suspect something was wrong because they were informed that he would be gone for at least a week for training camp in Tokyo. The brewing storm outside combined with the countryside service reduced their cellphones to nothing more than touchscreen calculators and clocks, and to top it off, the captain of their volleyball club was nothing more than ashes in the basement. This whole trip was a fucking mess, and all Tsukishima Kei wanted to do was go home, pop on his headphones, and eat a strawberry shortcake in his room.

His thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the bedroom door opening. Tsukki kept his eyes closed and nonchalantly said “Just put mine in the bathroom.”

“Can I put mine in you instead?”

Salthyshima’s eyes shot open and saw an all too familiar tangle of ebony hair. Kuroo had been increasingly clingy ever since they came to this god forsaken house; the problematic captain took any and every chance there was to get some alone time with the blonde tsundere. The only real break he got from Kuroo was when the father figure of Karasuno died.

The messy haired boy ambled closer until Tsukki brought his hand up to put a halt to Kuroo’s advances. Keeping distance with the troublesome captain proved to be the most efficient way to keep Tsukishima’s mentality stable. The latter took this opportunity to examine Tsukki from head to toe, with elevation to his advantage. The way Kuroo gazed at Tsukki with half-lidded eyes made him more nervous than usual. He was more used to Kuroo’s predatory gaze, but this one looked sort of... _provocative?_

“What do you want, Kuroo?” Tsukishima asked scornfully. The last thing he wanted was to be pinned down by Kuroo again figuratively and literally. Lately, he’d been hyper aware of Kuroo’s presence; there was always an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach when he was nearby, and the salty blonde didn't like it.

“Well, you. But that’s a bit of a high hurdle, so how bout’ a conversation for starters?”

If a sarcastic remark wasn’t coming out of Kuroo’s mouth, it was a flirtatious one. The blonde middle blocker could never tell when Nekoma’s captain was playing around or being serious, or why he got such a kick out of teasing him. Since last night, sharp hazel eyes had plagued Tsukki’s thoughts, and he was getting tired of it. Maybe having a decent conversation with him would unravel the mystery that was Kuroo Tetsurou’s intentions.

“I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“ _Ohoho?_ Which part of yesterday?”

“I’m talking about Daichi, you egotistical cat.” Tsukki muttered. Of course last night’s kitchen incident was on his mind too, but Tsukishima was far too haughty to admit that.

“Ah… well, are you okay?”

 _‘Kuroo, displaying concern? Kuroo Tetsurou? What’s next, Hinata getting a passing grade on an exam?’_ Tsukishima was absolutely baffled by the sudden change of attitude from the older blocker. 

“Hey, don’t look so surprised! I seriously do care about your well-being,” Kuroo said while running a hand through his messy hair, “and the rest of your team too.” he quickly added. This conversation was very sensitive, and talking to Tsukishima on a regular basis already made him feel like he was walking on eggshells.

“I’m fine. If you’re looking to console someone, I’d suggest Sugawara or Asahi. They probably took it the hardest.”

“I’ll give em’ some time, I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. On a side note, I think this is the longest you’ve ever talked to me without cursing me out or leaving me hanging!” Kuroo exclaimed. And just like that, Kuroo had made another 180 in his attitude. The cheery look on his face was soon replaced with a small smirk and those predacious eyes that sent chills down Tsukki’s spine. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

That crafty son of a bitch was up to something and Tsukki wanted no part of it. 

“That’s a stupid reason for a celebration. Anyways, Yamaguchi is taking too long, so I’m going to go check on him.”

Like hell he was actually going to check on Yamaguchi; he just needed an excuse to get out ASAP. Tsukishima got up from his bed and headed towards the door, but Kuroo caught him by the waist, granted that the tall blonde didn’t move very fast to begin with. Kuroo slung another arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders, to the megane’s distaste.

“Hey now, I just wanted to talk is all. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately too.” Now this was interesting; Kuroo was going to open up to him for the first time. Tsukishima turned to face Kuroo, a blonde eyebrow cocked up in a questioning manner. 

“... and just what exactly is on your mind?” Tsukishima realized his mistake a bit too late, inwardly smacking himself for trying to humor Kuroo Tetsurou of all people. The said captain’s face already held a smirk that was growing to an annoyingly large size.

“Well to put simply, your legs Tsukki,” Kuroo chuckled at Tsukishima’s unfazed look. The hand that rested on Tsukki’s waist travelled downwards to his exposed thighs. “And the rest of you of course.”

Tsukishima crinkled his nose at the nickname that Yamaguchi used so often, it had become some sort of endearment. Hearing it fall from Kuroo’s lips had the opposite effect however, as it held a more sinister undertone to it.

“Yeah ok, I obviously made a mistake when I allowed you to hold this conversation with me. Now if you’ll excuse me-” 

The tall blonde began to maneuver his way from under Kuroo’s clingy arm, fed up with all the games the dark-haired blocker had been playing with him throughout the entirety of their stay in the abandoned house. Tsukishima wanted nothing more than to brush his teeth and have a steaming hot cup of black coffee for breakfast. Seeing as how this was Kuroo he was dealing with, his plans couldn’t have gone in a more opposite direction. 

The wall was rigid and unwelcoming when Tsukishima’s back was thrusted upon it, his hands drawn up into a defensive position before Kuroo grabbed hold of them, fixing them to the sides of the blonde’s head. Kuroo’s eyes held a wicked glint to them as he observed his newly caught prey in front of him, admiring those breath-taking amber eyes that glared back at him in defiance. 

“Hmm, we could always continue this in silence if you’d prefer...” Kuroo murmured as he leaned in closer, lips barely grazing past Tsukki’s in a teasing manner. Both of their breaths mingled together within the tiny space that Kuroo was so kind as to leave between them. He bared his teeth in a grin when he saw the nervous expression on the younger’s face.

“Ohoho? Where’s all that attitude you were giving me a minute ago? You act like you hate me, but you actually don’t huh?”

Tsukishima’s silence coupled by the dark blush blossoming on his cheeks said more than enough.

“You know Tsukki… I really tried to hold myself back the other night, but I really can’t help myself when you’re like this.” Kuroo whispered lowly. Tsukishima was pinned under Kuroo’s burning body and was rather meek for a change. The idea of Tsukki writhing under him turned Kuroo on more than he’d imagined.

The taller blocker’s eyes suddenly found the floor to be more appealing, refusing to meet Kuroo’s hungry gaze any longer. Kuroo saw Tsukishima’s distraction as the perfect opportunity to close the gap between them, earning a startled cry from the middle blocker. The grasp on his wrists was too strong for him to shove Kuroo off, seeing as it was the captain’s defined biceps against his own lankier ones.

The kiss was searing and white hot, unlike anything Tsukishima had ever experienced. It was hardly gentle, but it wasn’t unpleasant; were those stars he was seeing? No, that couldn’t be it, there was no way in hell that he’d feel anything for the likes of Kuroo Tetsurou. He repeated this like a mantra in his head as he ever so slightly melded deeper into the kiss. Kuroo slowly released the grip he had on the wrists, sliding down to dig his nails into Tsukishima’s hips instead. With his hands now freed, Tsukishima wasted no time in grasping the front of Kuroo’s shirt, pulling him tight against his own chest. After what seemed like ages, the two finally broke apart to fill their lungs with much needed oxygen.

“Seems like someone’s enjoying themselves a bit more than I expected.” Kuroo panted out, his lips curling up into a mischievous smile. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at the comment, everything was going awfully nice until Kuroo opened that smart mouth of his.

“You sure about that? I don’t remember saying I enjoyed it, now did I?” The reaction he got from Kuroo was not one he had expected. The older shot an incredulous look at Tsukki right before he smashed their lips back together. Tsukishima relished in this new vigor of Kuroo’s, though he would never say it aloud. The second round of kissing was more familiarized, albeit sloppier as neither found reason to hold back. It was almost like a competition to prove who the better kisser was, and Tsukki never liked the taste of defeat. 

Kuroo took the initiative again, licking a stripe across the bottom of Tsukki’s lips, in an effort to taste the interiors of the blonde’s mouth. The latter complied, opening his jaws to allow Kuroo inside. An experienced tongue delved down to meet with the blonde’s, entwining itself around the shy organ, bits of saliva now dripping down the side of Tsukishima’s flushed mouth. Both of their tongues fought for dominance with Kuroo coming out as the victor. Somehow, Tsukishima was fine with that, losing himself to the pleasure that was currently engulfing him.

He was so entranced that he barely noticed the figure standing behind Kuroo’s back. Tsukishima nearly had a heart attack as he met Yamaguchi’s panicked, yet perplexed expression. The freckled player dropped the toothbrushes in his hands, a light clack against the floorboards. It was as if Yamaguchi couldn’t comprehend the situation that was currently unrolling before his eyes. 

_‘Shit!’_ Tsukishima internally screamed as he grabbed at Kuroo’s shoulders to roughly push him off. He flinched behind his glasses when he heard the loud thud of Kuroo’s body connecting with the floorboard. As the messy haired captain whispered streams of curses while collecting himself, Tsukki turned his head back around to find that Yamaguchi had already disappeared. Well then. This was going to be fun to bring up later.

* * *

Suga’s eyes fluttered open to meet with a familiar ceiling. He realized he was back in his futon and tucked in snugly. Suga felt instant excitement burst through his body when he turned and found someone there. Maybe everything that happened last night was just a horrible nightmare!

“Dai-” 

A frame larger than what Suga was expecting was placed at the wall next to his futon. Asahi was sleeping soundly while sitting up straight, the position looked anything but comfortable. Disappointment and sadness hung over Suga’s shoulders once more. Still, it was endearing to know that Asahi was looking after him.

 _‘What a sweet kid.’_ Suga thought to himself. He sat up, opened his last wine bottle, and took a swig out of it. He remained motionless for a few minutes and listened to the steady rhythm of rain beating against the house. Today was going to be a long day.

The silver haired boy pushed himself up and staggered towards the kitchen. Sure he was devastated, but he needed to prioritize. There were thirteen useless teens that he had to feed; he could cry all he wanted when night fell.

Asahi’s chocolate brown eyes blinked open right as Suga walked through the doorframe. Like a giant lost duckling, he got up and tailed right behind his maternal friend. They exchanged good mornings, but the rest of the walk to the kitchen was unbearably quiet. Asahi decided to break the silence once they reached the living room. 

“Hey Suga, are you feeling oka-”

“I’m heating up Nishinoya’s Hot Pockets for breakfast! Everyone’s probably starving!” Suga exclaimed in an overly peppy voice. The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. Of course Suga wasn’t okay. How could he be if Asahi himself was still in mourning? It physically hurt to watch Suga’s façade. There was nothing Karasuno’s ace could say or do to make things better; that was Daichi’s specialty.

Asahi decided to let Suga handle the kitchen affairs on his own and give him some space, so he plopped down on the sooty couch in the living room. The long haired ace sprawled out on the side of the couch and examined the things around him. He looked at the obvious dent in the floor made by the discarded chandelier, the tattered wallpaper curling off the walls, the painting of the old woman that was smiling. 

_WAIT_ … Smiling? That’s not how he remembered it. Looking up at the painting again, there were two distinct differences that were made to the portrait. One, there was a ghost of a smile traced on the old woman’s thin lips. Two, she was directly staring at Karasuno’s ace. It wasn’t like the peripheral stare of the Mona Lisa; Asahi could feel the piercing gaze of the acrylic eyes and it horrified him.

Only Suga was on the first floor with him, and there was a time and place for everything. He decided to be patient and wait for Noya to wake up so they could discuss the eerie things happening around them. For the time being, he tried his absolute best to look in any direction but the one in front of him.

* * *

“So _'Kawaii Space Babe and Her Galactic Tits'_ goes on the top of the pile, right?”

“For fucks sakes Ryu! I told you 'A’ goes first! 'A’ as in 'Apple’!” Nishinoya almost never rose his voice at Tanaka, but he had been burdened with doing most of the work, since his friend lacked basic alphabetical knowledge.

The weeby ghost was in the corner idly humming a Naruto opening to himself, having the time of his life while Tanaka and Nishinoya were slaving away at the final twenty or so magazines waiting to be shelved. The bald middle blocker glowered at the floating blue entity, wondering how his fatass could float, although the reason of being a ghost was enough of an explanation.

“Just six more Tanaka...we’re almost there…” Nishinoya croaked out. They were finally within home stretch after eight hours of non-stop labor. The truth about Daichi’s death was within their reach.

At this point, Nishinoya could be qualified to work at the national library by the speed he was arranging all these magazines. Within the next two minutes, everything was placed on the rack and neatly lined up before Tanaka called over the douche bag that put them through this hell.

“Come here dickweed, we’re done alphabetizing your crappy 2D porn collection!” Tanaka grumbled.

The weeby being glided over to the bookcase and skimmed his eyes through the dirty mags from top to bottom, starting from _“Aishiteru Big Titty-chan vol 1”_. It took him over twenty minutes to brief through the order; both Tanaka and Nishonoya were sweating and biting their nails, worried that one measly mistake would blow all their efforts away. 

The ghost twirled around after the inspection, before slamming his head onto the floor, laying both his palms flat in front of his forehead. “Arigatou gozaimasu!”

Tanaka and Nishinoya let out huge sighs of relief, thankful that they wouldn’t have to dive back into that pile of hot garbage. “A deal’s a deal, so tell us what happened to Daichi.” 

Otaku ghost lifted his head to open his mouth, but instead of words, an annoyingly high-pitched robotic voice struck their eardrums. _“SEKAI~ DE ICHIBAN O HIME-SAMA~!!”_

“Oh! Excuse me boys, but I must take this.” The bald spirit fumbled around in his pockets before pulling out a smartphone, swiping on the screen to answer the call. He lifted the speaker to his ears, holding a concentrated look on his face before his eyes bugged out.

“HOLY UNKO! ANOTHER HATSUNE MIKU CONCERT?! IN IKEBUKURO?? ...HELL YEAH I’LL BE THERE!”

The otaku’s blue form began to fade as quickly as the movements of the hand in his pants.

“Fuck yes... Miku... I’m coming for you baby...” He meant it literally.

“Oh no you don’t you damn ghost!” Tanaka shouted as he jumped right through the wraith’s body, smashing face-first into the pile of musty pornography. Nishinoya quickly joined in, hammering the shovel at the barely visible ghost, who continued to jerk off in broad ~~daylight~~ darkness. He knew it wouldn’t work, but with no other plans in mind, pummeling the shovel like a rabid animal was the best he had.

“Tell us what happened to Daichi!” The sunglass-blinded libero screeched, but it was for naught, as the otaku had already completely disappeared. However, the ghost did leave a parting gift; a glowing, blue, goo-like substance that looked suspiciously like cum.

The bald wing spiker collected himself from the floor, staring in contemplation at a bimbo with size Z cups.

“I fucking learned my ABC’s for this.”

* * *

Akaashi awoke to the discomfort of heavy pressure on his chest, moving both his hands upwards to lift the inhibiting object off of him. It was then and there that he noticed just what exactly he was pushing up against. The setter’s fingertips were met with something rather fleshy, currently emanating a warm pool of heat through the thin material of his cotton t-shirt. Several strands of silver hair tickled the side of his face as realization hit him like a ten-ton truck. Bokuto wasn’t lying when he warned Akaashi about his bedside habits the night before, somehow rolling atop the setter for who knows how long.

_‘God yes. Crush me, you magnificent beast-’_

“Mmmgh… Auuckockshee?” Akaashi’s earlier squirming must’ve roused Bokuto from out of his deep slumber. How disappointing.

“Good morning Bokuto-san.”

The ace practically leapt off of the body underneath him once the setter’s voice hit his ears. “Ackosheee!! Did I hurt you?! Dammit, I knew I shoulda just slept on the flo-” He couldn’t finish his sentence, what with his lips suddenly being preoccupied with Akaashi’s own, taking him by surprise. He was just beginning to lean in when the wavy-haired setter leant back to break apart the kiss. “Uhh… what was that for?”

“You talk too much sometimes, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto merely replied with a sheepish grin, wrapping an arm around Akaashi’s back to draw the quieter owl flush against his bare chest. Morning kisses from Akaashi were something Fukurodani’s captain would never get tired of.

Bokuto swiftly turned his head to ambush Akaashi’s lips, curling a hand into the soft nest of dark hair to keep the setter’s head in place as he pressed further in. It was his turn to surprise Akaashi, evening out the score between them. Or so he thought. The setter was anything but surprised, pushing back gently as he licked against the ace’s lips, patiently waiting for his ace to give him entrance. Bokuto, though confused, opened up anyways, moaning a bit when he felt the slick organs of their tongues brush up against one another. They both took their time exploring each other’s mouths, languidly sliding together in unison.

“I didn’t particularly like where things ended off last time.” Akaashi breathed out against Bokuto’s lips. Hazy grey-blue eyes flickering down to capture the equally as intense gaze of his captain, who was now sporting laboured breaths of his own.

“T-that’s good to hear, I was feeling the same myself.” Bokuto mused, as he began to push up the shirt that was concealing his setter’s toned body. Akaashi complied to his ministrations, pulling the material over his head to let it drop onto the floor. Right as he leaned back down, he felt a hot, wet tongue dart out to roll around one of his nipples, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from his lips. He let his fingers entangle themselves in silver and black streaked locks, while Bokuto allowed his hands to dip under Akaashi’s boxers to cup his ass, kneading the soft flesh with his palms. Akaashi arched himself further into Bokuto’s hold, groaning quietly when he felt a firm squeeze.

“F-fuck Akaashi… you really know how to get me going.” The owl captain managed to mutter this out as the pleasure pooling in his groin threatened to overtake him. 

Did Bokuto even know the extent of how much he’d worked up Akaashi? The setter wanted his captain to know exactly how he felt, preferably sooner than later. Akaashi nudged against the wing spiker’s shoulders until he got the hint, moving to lay back against the mattress as the setter lowered himself onto his stomach, hooking his arms around Bokuto’s thighs to keep him from squirming. He locked eyes with a heavily intrigued Bokuto, letting his warm breath dampen the cloth surrounding the captain’s straining cock. 

“Akaashi, what’re you- _ah!!_ ”

Bokuto threw his head back against the pillow as Akaashi mouthed over the cotton fabric, leaving a trail of saliva as he dragged his tongue across in an agonizingly slow manner. He felt the muscles in Bokuto’s thighs jump at the action; his sharp, abrupt gasps being music to Akaashi’s ears. He was normally sluggish in the morning, but Bokuto’s reactions were waking him up far more than any coffee he’s ever had. Feeling that he’s teased his captain enough, Akaashi reached around to pull at the ace’s boxers, the latter lifting his hips up to help. Once the restraining material was gone, Akaashi took a moment to marvel at the fully hardened member that laid out in front of him, precum already beginning to leak at the top. Bokuto peeked down in obvious embarrassment; he looked absolutely wrecked, given his flushed cheeks, disheveled bed-hair, and a thin line of saliva clinging to the side of his mouth. His eyes half-lidded from the waves of pleasure that had just washed over him.

Yes… Akaashi absolutely adored the look that Bokuto was giving to him at that moment, spurring him to move things along. He encircled the base of Bokuto’s cock with one hand, holding it steady as he flicked his tongue against the slit, revelling in the sudden blissful whimpers that escaped against Bokuto’s will. The setter’s lips pressed against the head to give a lazy kiss as he watched Bokuto’s back arch off the bed, head turning to the side. He had a feeling both of them would be enjoying this very much. Mouthing the side of heated flesh, Akaashi dragged his tongue down in a leisurely manner, before he moved his way back up, adding a swivel of the tongue from just below the head of the member. 

“A-ah… you’re so good Akaashi...”

Bokuto’s praises excited Akaashi, prompting him to open his mouth wider to take in almost the entire length, bobbing up and down experimentally to adjust to the girth of the throbbing flesh. The hand around the base stroked what he couldn’t reach with the wet cavern of his mouth. It was Bokuto’s turn to be embarrassingly loud this time, strings of moans breaking free from his lips. Fukurodani’s setter wrapped his mouth over the head again to swallow half of the length, as Bokuto watched himself disappear and reappear in a steady rhythm from Akaashi’s irresistibly hot mouth, groaning into the side of the pillow, sweat gleaming off his body as he continued to crave the heat that the beautiful setter so readily provided. Akaashi gradually increased the amount of cock he took in with each bob down as he met with Bokuto’s slowed bucks.

Once Bokuto’s panting became noticeably more ragged, he delved lower and took in his captain’s entire length down to the hilt. The beautiful ravenette took him as deeply as he possibly could, despite the impending urge to gag. Akaashi sucked down harder and faster, hollowing out his cheeks as he began to hum in a drawn out manner. The vibrations being exactly what Bokuto needed to be sent right over the edge.

“Aghh… Akaash- fuck!! ...I’m c-cumming!!”

The extremely loud owl yelled out the endearment as he came with a forceful shudder, spilling hot liquid down the setter’s throat, his hands moving to grip roughly against the sheets besides his quaking body. He would’ve jumped off the bed, had the quieter owl not been there to hold down his jerking hips, patiently waiting for him to come back down from his high. Akaashi swallowed down almost everything, making a show of lapping off the stray cum that happened to leak out his mouth once he found Bokuto’s eyes back on him. 

“ACKOSHEE~!! That was amazing!” Bokuto yelled out, but Akaashi wasn’t listening. He was already busy with his next task.

The brawnier player’s mouth went a bit dry when he followed Akaashi’s hand sliding down the bands of his own boxers, in order to wrap around his neglected member, moving in time with the quickened pumps of his hand. He didn’t even hear Bokuto telling him to stop, his forehead pressing onto his captain’s stomach, mouth slack open to let out a silent moan. Just when he felt like he was on the precipice of his own orgasm, Bokuto tore him away from it, bringing his hand hard against the mattress in an almost iron grip. The owl setter looked up in confusion at this, watching as Bokuto drew both of their hands up together.

“Let me do this for you, Akaashi.” Bokuto gave a devious smile before pulling the pretty setter into his lap, interlacing Akaashi’s hand with his own to start up a slow rhythm. Akaashi’s breathy moans were symphonic to the captain’s ears, speeding up the movements of his fist until he had the setter practically begging for it. Pristine nails clawed at Bokuto’s back as Akaashi rocked harder against Bokuto’s warm palm along with his own, inching ever so closer to his climax.

“Haah… haah… Bokuto-san p-please...” Akaashi hungered for release, like it was the only necessity he ever needed out of life, “... _more._ ” With a twist of the ace’s hand and a thumb swiping over the tip of the setter’s cock, Akaashi came undone with a haggard moan, coating both of their hands with his warm ejaculate. Akaashi keeled over Bokuto’s shoulder, slowly riding out his orgasm before he pulled back to place a kiss onto the parted lips in front of him. Bokuto answered back with fervor, smiling into the brush of lips all the while. Both of them would be looking forward to their future mornings together.

* * *

Descending the stairs was a pair of owls shining as bright as the sun with their orgasmic afterglows. Tsukishima groaned and tried to shield the glare of the light with his hands. Fukurodani’s pair approached the kitchen table where everyone was already eating, asides from Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Kenma. They greeted the others and settled down side by side while waiting for Suga to finish heating the next batch of Hot Pockets.

Off to the side Oikawa performed his daily antics in an attempt to get Iwaizumi hot and bothered, or better yet, a clue that the setter had the hots for him. When he felt Iwaizumi’s eyes on him, he picked up his hot pocket and practically deep throated it, trying to flaunt his oral skills. He was making obscene noises until Iwaizumi finally said “I get it Oikawa.”

The lighter brunet stopped his performance and looked up at Iwa-chan with bright eyes. “I didn’t know you liked hot pockets so much. This is what you wanted, right?” Seijoh’s ace placed his breakfast on Oikawa’s plate and sighed, “You can have mine so stop making those gross ass noises.” Oikawa spit out the pastry and slapped his head against the table, mentally cursing Iwa-chan’s thick skull.

“Speaking of noises, did you guys hear anything weird this morning? I think it was coming from the second floor. Sort of sounded like a seal whimpering while being clubbed?” Kageyama asked.

Kuroo spit out his food and cackled while holding his stomach, he nearly fell out of his chair laughing at the young setter’s question and detailed description. Did Kageyama seriously think that Akaashi’s moans sounded like the cries an abused animal? _‘Ah… youth. So innocent.’_ the messy haired boy thought as his laughing fit finally died down.

“What is it?” Kageyama asked, clearly oblivious to the steamy relationship between Fukurodani’s Captain and Vice Captain.

“Try asking Bokuto, he might know.” Kuroo responded while shooting Brokuto a mischievous look.

“I- uhh…”

“We slept the moment we came back to our room. Bokuto and I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. You must’ve heard wrong, Kageyama.” Akaashi stated flatly and a little too quickly to be natural. 

“I see you’ve dropped the ‘-san’ with Bokuto. Getting more comfortable, huh?” Kuroo intervened.

Akaashi’s facial expression remained the same, but his entire face flared up a bright red. Bokuto looked over and couldn’t tell if his setter was blushing or about to blow a fuse. 

Tsukishima interrupted their bickering; he had no interest in these fruitless conversations. “There’s no point in waiting around here more than we have to. Yamaguchi give me your phone, I’m going to call Coach Ukai.” Tsukishima demanded.

Yamaguchi nearly froze when Tsukki addressed him, but complied. He awkwardly handed his phone to Tsukki, who snatched the cell out of his hand and dialed their coach. The call dropped before it could even ring. Countryside bumpkin-ass service was the absolute worst. 

Suddenly bursting through the basement doors was Tanaka and Nishinoya with bloodshot eyes. They hobbled to the kitchen and nearly passed out on the floor from sleep deprivation. Asahi rushed to them and poured his water bottle into their parched mouths; the pair of second years looked like they were on the verge of death.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU TWO?!” Apesahi shrieked.

“W-we….. Hentai…. ABC’s…. Ugh….” Tanaka managed to mumble with what little energy he had left.

“What?? You stayed up all night watching anime porn???”

Nishinoya’s face became even more tired looking as he thought about the events that just transpired not six hours ago. That was by far the hardest thing the energetic libero had ever done in his seventeen years of life.

“...Long story short, we put a weeby ghost to rest and he basically told us that Daichi didn’t die by accident. He was supposed to give us a name but he totally scammed us and dipped.”

Suga dropped the frying pan in his hands upon hearing the name everyone was trying to avoid. The pan rattled violently against the tiles, resounding throughout the entire kitchen before it came to a halt. After taking a deep breath Suga took a huge gulp out of his half finished bottle, bent down to retrieve the frying pan, and silently continued to work at the stove. Oikawa and Iwaizumi locked eyes at the libero’s statement.

The tension in the room was skyrocketing. Daichi was currently an extremely sensitive topic, his name alone was more taboo than the concept of incest right now. Tanaka punched Nishinoya in the arm for being insensitive towards their silver haired senior (and/or mother), one wrong move might just make Suga lose his shit, and no one wanted that… except for Kuroo who absolutely loved chaos. 

“Are you guys sure you weren’t high out of your minds last night?” Akaashi strategically asked, finally breaking the silence in the kitchen and trying to steer the topic away from he-who-shall-not-be-named. Both Tanaka and Nishinoya were known for being the biggest dumbasses on their team second to Hinata and Kageyama.

“No I swear to god, this seriously happened like five minutes ago! My tolerance is hella high, I can’t be stoned for more than three hours!” Tanaka explained.

“Yeah, it was wild… haven’t you guys noticed some weird things going on ever since we came into this house?” Nishinoya asked.

Asahi shook his head with much vigor, clearly still shaken up from the ominous painting. Kageyama and Hinata also agreed, having probably the worst experience compared to everyone else.

“By the way, where’s Kenma? I haven’t seen the guy since last night.” Nishinoya continued.

Kageyama’s expression froze and Hinata dropped the food in his hands. The two started sweating profusely, eliciting suspicious glances from everyone gathered at the table. A waterfall of nervous ass-sweat dripped from Hinata’s chair. There was no sense in hiding the truth anymore. 

“K-Kenma was covered in blood and accidentally choked me last night and Kageyama tried to help me so he knocked out Kenma but we didn’t know it was Kenma until after he passed out and then we shoved him in the closet and oh my gosh I forgot we left him in there naked and then we woke up and then we checked the closet in the morning and then he wasn’t there and the-”

Kageyama karate chopped the jittery amber eyed boy’s neck for saying unnecessary details, Hinata talked too damn much when he was panicking. Fortunately, Nishinoya and Tanaka always managed to save the two during desperate times.

“Well damn… Maybe we can find another ghost and ask them what happened to Daichi and where Kenma is?” Tanaka proposed.

Kuroo’s lips curled into an impish smirk, this morning was turning out to be far more interesting than he could have ever hope for. Before a rational blonde could shut down the idea, Kuroo decided it was time to spice things up a little.

“I’ve been in a séance or two…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the smut was a last minute touch... literally written 5 minutes before update hahaha i love to die


	7. Sé My Name, Sé My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If no one is around you, say baby I love you if you ain’t playing games... during the séance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head editor was too lazy to draw Kuroo's other eye so he's a fucking cyclops now i guess
> 
> This séance scene was inspired by the one in The Suite Life Of Zack And Cody if that helps clarify how totally fuk't this is

Tanaka rummaged through the cupboards and found a candelabra; though the specific model was meant for celebrating Hanukkah, it would be used to help in contacting the demons and spirits. He placed the candelabra at the center of the round kitchen table and ignited the nine wax sticks.

Kuroo turned around to face his brave, young volleyball colleagues, who were for the most part, trying their best to not completely shit themselves.

“So seeing as how I’m the only one who's even sat in a séance before, I’ll be taking the pleasure of serving as the medium tonight.” 

“You said you learned it off of wikiHow!!”

“Let’s not worry about the small details, Kageyama.” Kuroo remarked. 

“We can’t save Kenma if all we do is sit around and argue all day! Let’s start the séance already!!” Hinata exclaimed, shaking in his seat from both fear and excitement. 

“For once, I agree with Chibi-chan. The faster we find that pudding-haired rodent, the quicker I can get to my beauty sleep.” Oikawa spat out, as he made his way towards the table, only to be blocked off by Kuroo. Nekoma’s captain kept his arms crossed as one accusing, cat-like eye glued itself onto an irritated Oikawa. 

“Hmm I’m sorry, I think I forgot to mention this earlier, but séances don’t work that well unless the participants _actually_ believe in the spirits themselves.”

Oikawa answered Kuroo in an almost offended tone, “Of course I believe in ghosts! Why would you even bother asking that?!” He pulled an incredulous face for added effect. Kuroo countered with one raised ‘i’m-not-buying-your-bullshit’ eyebrow at Seijoh’s overdramatic, diva of a captain. The middle blocker had seen right through the brunet, prompting Oikawa to drop the act. “Only people as ignorant as Tobio-chan would believe in ghosts.” Oikawa scoffed as he pulled out a nail file to begin an unnecessary manicure.

“You believe in aliens though…” Kageyama quietly retorted. A second after his passive aggressive comment, a metal nail file was hurled right at the center of the freshman’s forehead. Oikawa’s aim was impeccable as always.

The sassy brunet rolled his eyes as far as he could; far enough to catch a glimpse of Suga and Iwaizumi, who were holding what seemed to be a enjoyable conversation filled with light banter. Suga was laughing as Iwaizumi smiled down at the silver-haired snake. What… the… FUCK?? The chestnut-haired setter practically seethed as he watched the warm scene unraveling in front of his cold, petty ass. Mr. Refreshing was getting a little too comfortable with _his_ Iwa-chan. No no no, this needed to be stopped.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.” The ~~pretty~~ petty setter pushed past a bored Kuroo to plant himself onto Iwaizumi’s lap, revelling in the flustered expressions of both Iwa’s and Suga’s face for about six seconds, before Iwaizumi threw him off like the piece of trash that he was. Oikawa was really living up to his nickname of Trashykawa, whether he’d like to admit it or not.

“Well anyways… the last thing we need is an offering of food to complete this set-up.”

Just as Kuroo finished his sentence, Nishinoya dawdled in with a plate of a heated hot pocket, fully intent on ingesting the revolting, cheesy pastry. That was, until Asahi smacked the dish out of the shocked libero’s hands, causing the hot pocket to fly right into the candelabra.

“NOOOO!! How could you Asahi!?” Nishinoya bawled aloud, hands stretched out in a receiving position, missing the only “ball” that he’d ever wanted to save in his entire life.

It was a known fact that out of everyone, Asahi was the most devout believer of spirits and the paranormal due to his chicken personality. He wanted to make sure that this séance went as perfectly as possible, lest he lose sleep altogether from the hauntings of angered entities. Really, it was the only reason Kuroo had even allowed Oikawa to join in on the scene in the first place; Karasuno’s ace being a giant receptacle of unadulterated fear counteracted Oikawa’s complete and utter apathy towards the workings of the dead. 

The grimy centerpiece flew into the air, dropping candle-first down into the steamed hot pocket. A sizable amount of tomato began to ooze out of the stabbed pouch of pepperoni, echoing the recent death of their cherished dadchi like an extremely fucked up cheesy metaphor. Life imitates art, after all. 

“That’ll do.” Nekoma’s captain stated straight-faced, already regretting his decision to start a séance. There was no way in marked hell that they’d make it out of this ceremony unscathed, judging by how clearly they were already messing up on the prep, but the middle blocker expected as much. He cleared his throat with a cough, “Okay everyone! Gather round', hold hands, and shut the fuck up!”

Taking this as a cue to begin the ceremony, the others began to file around the table to fill in the empty seats. Kageyama sat next to Hinata, who wore an expression similar to that of someone well into their third hour of constipation. Asahi sat next to the freak-set duo, followed by Nishinoya and Tanaka, who both looked like they hadn’t slept a wink in over two decades. Akaashi was jammed tight in between his new lover and Karasuno’s lovable, yet, overly aggressive baldy. In the midst of all the chaos, sat Kuroo at the head of the table, along with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Suga to his right.

“Well then, this séance is going to go just _swimmingly._ ” Kuroo reassured with the fakest of smiles.

* * *

Kuroo finally began his attempt at calling the spirits. The word “attempt” being an excruciating understatement.

“Oh spirits of the dead... or whatever tickles thyne pickle, we call upon thee in hopes of finding the whereabouts of our lost kitten, Kozume Kenma. Feel free to @ me his location. Also if you’re hot, bored, and dtf, then we got three things in common. DM me at kuroo_titsurou.”

Iwaizumi cracked open one eye. “Uhh… I might be on a stretch here, but are you sure that’s exactly how it went? You know, from wikiHow?”

“Ehh it was close enough. Don’t worry bro, I know what I’m doing half the time.”

There was an awkward silence, as they awaited an answer from the “other side”, before an obnoxiously long and repetitive beep blared throughout the entire room.

_We’re sorry, the caller will be put on hold as all lines are being held up at the moment._

“What the shit… those fuckers put me on hold!”

The middle-blocking medium opened his eyes, scanning the room just long enough to discover that Oikawa had broken hand contact with Hinata to check on his freshly filed nails, while Tsukishima had freed his left hand to nudge up his thick glasses. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

“What did I say about keeping hand contact?! No wonder the call didn’t go through!!”

Both the brunet and blonde _“tched”_ at the dark-haired blocker’s nagging, grabbing their respective partners’ hands once again.

_Beep... beep... beep…_

_Clack!_ The sound of an old phone being picked up reached the relieved ears of the volleyball boys.

_Umm moshi moshi? Who’s calling? You can’t see it, but I’m busy organizing my Hatsune Miku figurine collection at the moment, so hurry up and tell me what it is you want already. Baka!_

“Oh you’ve gotta be shitting me,” Tanaka gritted out, “It’s that dumbass weeb that said he’d tell us what happened to Daichi if we sorted out his ridiculous, and might I add, UNCREATIVE hentai collection!!”

Nishinoya joined in on the shade throwing,“Bruh!! We’re still waiting on an answer by the way! But don’t worry, we’ll let you finish jacking off to those big tittied bugs first.”

 _Ugh! How DARE? I’ll come back to talk when you brutes learn some civil manners first. The NERVE!_

Another clack could be heard as the call ended. It didn’t take long for everyone to start berating Tanaka and Nishinoya; the group had transformed into something crudely resembling a bunch of chimpanzees throwing shit at one another. Kuroo was not having any of it.

“Oya, oya, OYA! What did I say about keeping our hands together, HAAH?? Do you dip shits even want to save Kenma? Cuz it sure as hell doesn’t look like it!”

Grumbles could be heard before all hands rejoined reluctantly. Kuroo was right after all; their bickering could wait until after the furry was back safely with them. It was then, that the line was picked up again.

_Herro???_

Oh good god. They went from calling a scamming weeb to a total fob, not much of an upgrade.

“Uh ‘herro’ right back at ya’… Sorry I’m keeping things brief here, but do you know who killed Sawamura Daichi?”

 _It a boy!_

“Yeah okay… Do you know where Kozume Kenma is? Blonde, small, posture like the Hunchback of Notre Dame?” 

_Hmm… cat boy is in dark place, yes?_

“What the fuck kind of answer is that?! No shit he’s somewhere dark, there’s literally no sunlight even though it's noon, and all we have in this house for light is some goddamn candles! And why the hell did he answer us like he was asking too?!” Iwaizumi yelled. These vague answers weren’t going to help them in the least; they were better off just playing detective to find Kenma and Daichi’s killer on their own.

The call remained connected, but some random rustling on the other line made it sound like the phone was being passed to another person.

_H-hello? Is anyone there..?_

“Well at least this ghost sounds normal,” Iwaizumi mused to himself.

_Why isn’t anyone answering? ...I said… **ANSWER ME, YOU SHIT-BRAINED FLESH BAGS.**_

An aggressive roar reverberated throughout the house, coupled by a strong gust blowing all the candles out. Everyone’s eyes shot open in panic at this point, with some more terrified than others, but the ring was still kept in tact. Then it happened; Kuroo’s body fell forward face-first onto the table with a smack, the motion being accompanied by Asahi’s lady-like shrieks. Bokuto, on the other hand, wasted no time in shaking the hand that was clasped around his bro’s in hopes of waking him up.

“Kuroo?!! What’s happening? Talk to me bro!” His pupils had begun to dilate from both fear and the newfound darkness.

With a shuddering movement, Kuroo slowly lifted his head from the table. He leaned all the way back in his chair, before lolling his head to face Bokuto, baring his teeth in a deranged smile. Fukurodani’s ace stared on in horror as the middle-blocker rolled his pupils into the back of his skull, releasing a demonic laugh all the while. 

**“What kinda cheap-ass medium did you lots hire? It was too easy taking over his feeble mind! BAHAHAHA!!”**

“Ugh, it’s just like Kuroo to get possessed in a séance he’s leading. Pathetic,” Tsukishima flatly stated.

“I agree, Kuroo-pain-in-the-ass-san has become quite the liability. I wonder how Kenma feels, having to depend on such an irresponsible, monkey of a teammate,” Akaashi added without batting an eyelash.

One of Kuroo’s pupil-less eyes twitched at this. **“W-what the hell?! How is he able to fight back-”**

Kuroo gasped loudly, his irises rolling back down in a sharp motion. “Yooo that was really mean you guys! Couldn’t you have held back on the insults just a little?”

“Kuroo!! You’re back!” Bokuto cried out gleefully, only to pull a straight-face when Kuroo’s eyes rolled right back up again.

**“Haha too bad, this dumbass’ body is mine for the taking.”**

“You act like we care what happens to his body,” Tsukishima responded with the utmost nonchalance, "Now be an obedient spirit and tell us where Kozume Kenma is."

 **“And what the fuck makes you think I’d do that? I don’t think I quite like that attitude you’re giving me, you four-eyed fuck!”** An even stronger gust than before appeared, blowing the candelabra right off the table and the half-eaten hot pocket right into Yamaguchi’s freckled face. Dishes, kitchen appliances, and eating utensils shot out of their compartments and whirled around the volleyball players, closing off their exit on all sides. They were surrounded by a tornado of silverware... this was turning into Hell’s Kitchen™.

“Bravo Tsukishima-kun~! Really, I applaud you for being able to get us into even deeper shit.” Oikawa pointed his nail file accusingly at Tsukki, inspecting the job he did on his other hand as Iwaizumi deflected a knife from lodging itself into the lighter brunet’s head. Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at the flagrant diss, wanting Iwaizumi’s aim to be less than perfect for the next object that would inevitably fly towards the trashbag of a captain.

“Bro come back to us! I know you’re in there somewhere!!” Bokuto yelled as the demonic entity began clawing at the muscular arms the owl captain had wrapped around his midriff, effectively holding the middle blocker up into the air. 

“Oh god, Bokuto-san you can’t seriously be thinking of–”

Bracing both his hands together, Bokuto began to put the Heimlich maneuver into action, forcing the air out of his disturbed bro’s body. From afar, it just looked like he was violently humping an extremely unwilling Kuroo in the air. It was a shame Kenma wasn’t here to witness the humiliating sight. “I’ll just make Kuroo throw up this stupid ghost!” Akaashi face-palmed amidst all the chaos. 

**“GUH!!... Get your filthy hands off me you damned flesh sack!”** As the words left the possessed blocker’s mouth, his body suddenly fell limp in the silver-haired ace’s arms. 

“What?” Bokuto questioned as he gently laid Kuroo back down onto the floor in confusion. Akaashi ran beside him to inspect also. The darker haired captain’s eyes were now closed, all hints of possession leaving his face.

“Where’d he go?!” Kageyama yelled, sounding more pissed than scared. Asahi had his knees bent up to his chest and rocked back and forth, whispering prayers while holding a makeshift cross made of two spoons. Nishinoya grabbed Asahi’s shoulder and shook him. “Get it together man!!” Asahi continued to rock in his upright fetal position and looked up at Noya grimly. “Don’t you get it Nishinoya?! Ghosts always possess the most weak-minded person! I’m screwed!”

“If that’s the case then it’s gonna be Tanaka… he barely learned his ABC’s last night! You’ll be fine Asahi!” The younger libero encouraged. Asahi tried to force a smile, but was still visibly nervous.

“Aw what the hell Noya! There’s like thirty letters! That shits confusing!” The bald wing spiker testified.

“Ah–ackk!! What are you d-doing?!” Everyone turned their heads to the side to witness the strangest scene. Asahi was struggling against YamaGucciMane, whose eyes were now rolled up and lips curled back to laugh wickedly. It didn’t take long for the pinch server to get both his hands around Asahi’s throat, slowly ringing the air and life out of him.

“Ugh... y-yes... _harder._ ” 

Tanaka and Nishinoya whipped their heads towards Asahi with expressions along the lines of “Bitch whet?????”. They really didn’t want to have to choose between saving their ace’s life or allowing him to enjoy his ill-timed choking fetish.

“Uhh... I mean–”

The ace began to put up a fight, punching Yamaguchi’s face over and over again, if only for show. The grip didn’t lessen any, and all it served to do was knock a couple of teeth out of the crazed pincher’s mouth, with one landing right onto the owl setter’s hair.

“Oh. Oh this is not good.” Akaashi muttered, flicking the bloody tooth onto Kuroo’s unconscious face. Suga felt like he needed to do something, running towards Yamaguchi to aid in pulling him off.

 **“You think you can fucking stop me?!”** Yamaguchi spat, his appearance looking far from innocent, what with all the blood gushing out of his mouth as he laughed into Asahi’s happy, oxygen-deprived face. Throughout the “struggle”, the possessed Yamaguchi hadn’t realized that a figure had been steadily creeping up from behind him, arms hovering a chair over the pinch server’s head. 

_WHAM!_

Wood chippings flew everywhere as Yamaguchi doubled over, hands finally falling away from a sexually frustrated Asahi. Bokuto dropped the smashed up chair, holding trembling hands up in front of his face, as if he’d just committed fresh murder.

“Nooooo!!! What have I done?! I’m sorry lil’ bro!”

“It couldn’t be helped. You did good, Bokuto.” Akaashi cradled Bokuto’s sobbing head on his shoulder, hushing him as he began to slowly stroke at his hair. The image resembled that of a mother cradling a child who had just scraped his knees, albeit a huge, owl baby.

“UWAHH Kageyama!! I won’t get possessed too will I?!” Hinata cried out as both his hands shot out to grip tightly onto the front of Kageyama’s graphic t-shirt, his nose dripping with snot and eyes turning pink from all the tears flowing down his face.

The raven-haired blocker felt his heart tighten a little at Hinata’s vulnerability. He looked around frantically, before swiftly grabbing a colander that had circled by in midair. “Boke! Of course not!” He shoved the colander atop the messy fluff of orange hair. “There! This should stop that freaky demon from getting into that dumbass brain of yours!”

Hinata’s crying turned into a slight sniffle, “T-thank you Kageyama… I really owe you one!” The short middle-blocker buried his face into the genius setter’s chest, wrapping his small twig-like arms around in a very warm embrace. Kageyama could feel his heartbeat growing quicker by the second and felt the need to pull Hinata off, before the idiot could catch on to his true feelings. 

“Oi boke, I get it, now get off me.” Kageyama shoved Hinata a little, but the tiny blocker stayed in the same position. 

“Oi, did you hear me?” Still no response. Kageyama decided to peel the middle blocker off himself. He halted his movements when he heard a low, guttural laugh come from Hinata, lowering his eyes down to be met with two pupiless ones.

**“Ohh I heard you alright, big boy.”**

Kageyama’s reflexes weren’t quick enough to avoid the colander that was swung at his face, his body falling heavily onto the ground as he raised a hand to cover what would surely be a bruise in the next hour. The genius setter attempted to sweep Hinata’s feet out from under him with his long legs, but the possessed blocker dodged it with ease, using the abnormal spring of his jumps. 

“Eheheheh, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that!”

While the demonic troll was busy ridiculing the navy haired setter, Iwaizumi circled around and put the bewitched boy into a headlock.

“DO IT NOW, SUGA!”

Karasuno's vice captain swung a near-empty bottle of wine over the sunshine blocker’s head. Why it was almost empty was not a hard mystery to be solved; Daichi was probably shaking his head in heaven. Some of the remnants of the wine landed itself onto the back of Hinata’s head, causing the demon to shriek in horror as it was abruptly exorcised.

“Amen,” Suga slurred out.

The moment Hinata collapsed onto the floor, all of the swirling utensils dropped immediately onto the floor, signaling the end of the angry spirit’s wrath.

“T-thanks Suga...” Kageyama managed to breathe out as he grabbed the hand that was extended out to him. Once he was back on his feet, he looked over his shoulder to see a crowd encircling a now awake Kuroo. Nekoma’s captain was awake for half of the action that just transpired and was cackling throughout all of the violence and madness. He really had to do these more often, but for now, it seemed that the séance was finally over.

“I guess there’s a lesson to be learned here,” Kuroo looked around at the shocked faces of his colleagues, “Never trust wikiHow.”

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are preaching to us.” Tsukishima grimaced.

* * *

Sugawara hobbled back towards Iwaizumi and leaned on him, intoxicated and barely able to stand upright. Iwaizumi tossed Hinata’s limp body at his captain and quickly caught Suga to help walk him to the living room couch.

“Hey Assikawa, deal with this and help clean up here.” The spiky haired ace ordered as he practically carried Suga out the room to Oikawa’s distaste.

_'Stupid Iwa-chan… always so mean to me. But he acts like Prince Charming to Mr. Refreshing.’_

Oikawa grabbed the back of both Kageyama and Hinata’s shirt collars and dragged them across the metal ridden floor towards the master bedroom.

“Oika-OW! Oikawa, I can walk on my own, I'm still conscious!” Kageyama complained.

“Good, then go be useful for once Tobio-chan!” Oikawa lugged the other small body he was dragging on top of Kageyama and made his way back to the living room with the intention of snatching his man back. To Oikawa, Suga was a Chinese bootleg version of himself; he was a setter, a third year, had a cowlick on the top of his head, and he was pretty. Not as pretty as himself of course, but still really pretty nonetheless. The only real difference was their personalities. Unfortunately, Suga’s was exactly Iwaizumi's type if Oikawa had to use the spiker’s past crushes as reference. He was just as nurturing as Iwa-chan and sweet to the freaking core, as much as the brunet hated to admit it. If there was anyone besides Oikawa who could grab Iwa’s attention at this point, it was Sugawara Koushi.

* * *

“Suga, how'd you know how to exorcise the shrimp?” Iwaizumi asked, both baffled and impressed simultaneously.

“Didn’t ya know? Wine is da blud of Christ!!” Suga giggled.

Iwaizumi sighed, placed the smaller boy down on the couch, and sat next to him. Suga was just a little shorter than Iwaizumi, and it pleased him to be the taller one for once. Oikawa always teased him about his height even though he only had a two inch advantage on the wing spiker.

“I’m all out now though… guess I’ll hafta deal with everything like a grown up in the evenin’...” Suga sighed. The lightness of their earlier conversation evaporated. Suga crawled closer to Iwaizumi’s inviting arms and laid his head on the tan ace’s sturdy chest. Iwaizumi's heart broke a little when he looked down at Suga, who sagged against his body with dull eyes. He could tell the setter was exhausted by the dark rings forming under his eyes, but more than anything, he could tell that Suga was _sad_.

After a few quiet moments, Iwaizumi felt Suga trembling under his arm. Tears were streaming down his pale face as he bit back his bottom lip, trying his best not to make any noises. Iwaizumi pulled his arms tighter around Suga, covering his vulnerable friend in his chest. He could feel his shirt getting damp, but stayed where he was, hugging the silver haired setter wordlessly.

Oikawa quietly walked up behind the couch Iwaizumi and Suga were sitting on, and saw the smaller boy clinging tight against his vice captain.

 _'WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY DOING?! No… calm down Tooru! Iwa-chan is just being a good friend and comforting him!’_ Oikawa repeated to himself so that he wouldn't obliterate Suga right then and there.

When Seijoh's captain finally calmed his nerves down, he felt like he was struck by lightning by what he heard next.

“Thank you… Hajime.” Suga quietly said, slightly muffled by talking into Iwaizumi’s chest.

_'H-HAJIME?! He doesn’t even let me call him Hajime! When the fuck did they get on first name basis?!’_

And then the finishing blow. Oikawa saw something he wished he hadn't.

Iwaizumi tilted his head down and placed a lingering kiss on top of Suga’s head. Oikawa’s heart tightened as much as Iwaizumi’s embrace around the silver haired boy. 

Oikawa always believed that he was different from the rest of Iwaizumi’s friends because of the small but loving kisses the dependable ace gave him. He would only do it when Oikawa was extremely upset, or when he thought that Oikawa was in a deep sleep. They were special to the pompous brunet; it gave him hope that maybe Iwaizumi had the same feelings he had for him. In the end, those little meaningful kisses were something only Oikawa had, but now, Suga had them too.

Not wanting to see things escalate, Oikawa turned on his heel and quietly made his way up to his room. His stomach curled so much it felt like it was going to combust. The tall brunet could hear his heart shattering more and more with every step he took up the stairs. Right now, all he wanted was to be in Iwa-chan’s comforting arms, but they were currently occupied and wrapped around another man.

* * *

Bokuto and Kuroo were circulating around the house, trying to use the only hint they got during the séance to find Nekoma’s setter. Everyone else was busy cleaning up the aftermath of the chaotic ritual, so they took it upon themselves to do the detective work.

“Okay, he said Kenma was in 'a dark place' right?” 

“Ya man, but where’s the darkest place in this house?” 

“I KNOW! Tanaka’s asscrack.” Bokuto exclaimed.

Tokyo’s rambunctious captains laughed obnoxiously loud at Bokuto’s vulgar joke.

“Bro no. I know an even darker place. Tsukki’s heart.” 

Bokuto couldn’t even stand anymore, he dropped on the floor and laughed until tears formed at the corner of his eyes. Bokuto and Kuroo were definitely two peas in a pod, their friendship was a truly beautiful thing.

“Okay but seriously, wouldn’t that mean the basement? There's no windows down there or anything.”

“Man Kuroo, you’re so freakin’ smart. You're like Akaashi-level smart!”

They walked towards the hall leading to the basement door, catching up with each other all the while, since they didn’t really have time to talk for the past day and a half. Kuroo grabbed a vintage candleholder and lit up the wax rod before descending first.

“You give me too much credit my good man. But while we’re on the topic of Akaashi, how are you two?” Kuroo inquired, still not entirely sure if Brokuto sealed the deal with the beautiful setter.

“Good. Great. Amazing. Phenomenal. He’s so damn pretty and smart man…”

“Phenomenal? Bokuto, when'd your vocab get so big?” 

“Akaashi taught me that word this morning when he was describing how he felt when I-”

Kuroo’s eyebrow cocked up and a suggestive grin spread on his face when he locked eyes with his best friend, nonverbally egging him on to finish his thought.

“Ah, nevermind! We’re really good bro. How bout’ you? You never told me if you were seeing anyone.” Although Bokuto was one of the closest people to Nekoma’s shady captain, he was not well informed on his love life.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Kuroo paused a beat, a small genuine smile forming on his lips, “but I've got eyes for someone.”

“What, seriously?! WHO?!” Bokuto gasped. He wanted to be in on the juicy gossip; the messy haired captain was almost never interested in anyone as far as Bokuto knew.

“Take a wild guess.”

“It... it’s not Akaashi is it?”

“No, I’d never do that to you! I'll give you a hint, he’s tall.”

“Oh thank god. Uhh is it Asahi, or maybe Oikawa? No wait, oh my god…” Bokuto’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. “Is it me…?”

Kuroo almost smacked his own face in aggravation, but decided to slap Bokuto’s instead because the remark was just too damn stupid.

“Bokuto you bird brain, you’re shorter than me. There’s only ONE person taller than me. Think about it. Tall. Blonde. Salty.”

“Kenma’s kind of short though, like he’s barely up to my nipple…”

Kuroo, frustrated at how slow Bokuto was, grabbed the owl captain by the shirt collar and shook him back and forth violently.

“IT’S TSUKKI DAMN IT!!”

Bokuto’s jaw dropped wide open. He definitely did not expect Tsukishima to be the one to grab Kuroo’s attention.

The two made it down the basement stairs and continued into the abysmal darkness without batting an eyelash; they were far too invested in their conversation to care about how scary the subterranean room was.

“Whaaaaat… but that guys so mean, his personality is total trash!”

“Ah, but one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I'm not gonna lie, I get kinda hard when he insults me. I might be a masochist.” Kuroo stated. He was so shameless when he talked about these sorts of things. “I dunno, I just get kind of excited when he shows some real emotion, you get what I mean?”

“Well not really, but you do you. You’re supportive of me and ‘Kaashi, so I’m supportive of you and Tsukki! It’ll be super cool, we’ll go on double dates and stuff!”

“Yeah yeah yeah, all lovey dovey shit aside, don’t forget about bro time with me.” Kuroo wasn’t the kind of guy that tossed aside friends when he got in a relationship, so he sure as hell didn’t want Bokuto to do that to him either. 

“Dude. I could never. We’re always going to hang out and hit the gym together… Y-You’re my brotein shake.”

Kuroo stopped walking, looked Bokuto dead in the eye and placed one hand firmly on the slightly shorter captain’s shoulder.

“My Bromeo.” Kuroo quietly said.

Bokuto’s golden eyes lit up and faced Kuroo. He took two steps towards the messy haired boy and looked straight at the sharp hazel eyes above him with an unwavering gaze.

“My swolemate.”

“Fuck. I love you bro.”

Kuroo pulled Bokuto into a tight hug, who squeezed the taller boy with the same amount of force. There was no relationship purer than his and Bokuto’s bromance.

“Same bro.” Bokuto murmured, patting Kuroo’s back in an attempt to relay his appreciation for the middle blocker with every thud.

Once they untangled from their bromantic hug, they continued wandering in the darkness looking for Kuroo’s cat-like friend. The eeriness of the basement began to sink into Bokuto's mind now that he wasn’t distracted with talking. They couldn't see more than three feet in front of them, only the sound of their heavy footsteps and the occasional cantering of what he hoped were rats could be heard.

The grey haired captain stuck close to the lanky middle blocker, whose face showed no sign of fear or anxiety. How Kuroo could remain composed in any given circumstance was beyond him. 

“Kenma, you here?” Bokuto asked in hopes that the setter would just crawl out of nowhere so they could go upstairs as soon as possible. He couldn't stand the silence so he occasionally called out for the missing boy, only to hear his echo as a reply.

They approached the edge of the basement corridors, feeling defeated from not having found the blonde setter. Kuroo’s eyes stretched wide open when he took a glance at the brick wall in front of him.

Giant claw marks from what seems to be an ancient prehistoric animal grazed across the entire top half of the wall. The indent was nearly three inches deep, and quite new for that matter. Both captain's traced their eyes along the crooked stripes, all the way down until they stopped at the edge of an unnoticed doorframe. 

A rotting brown door camouflaged with the dirty bricks around it. Kuroo looked over at Bokuto and signalled for him to be the first to go in the room.

“Hell no! There’s been weird shit happening in this house, you go in!” Bokuto yelled. 

“Haiillll nah! I found the room, so YOU go in!” Kuroo shot back. Maybe his poker face was just for show after all.

“You don’t even care if I die huh?!” Bokuto accused.

“You already got Akaashi! You can die happy; I haven’t even boned Tsukki yet!”

The two started wrestling each other, fighting over who would go in the eerie room first. So much for their unbreakable bond. Bokuto’s weight shifted on top of Kuroo, causing Nekoma’s captain to fall against the door. The door was brittle, having been deteriorated over a long period of time. It broke off at the hinges, sending both of Tokyo’s captains tumbling in the room.

“Ugh, you fatass…” Kuroo groaned, he sat up and rubbed his sore backside. Kuroo looked around to examine the room. Surrounding them was an amazing collection of wines, each wall was covered with wine racks filled to the brim with expensive brands. If he pawned all of these, he could probably pay off all of his family’s debt that had been passed down from generation to generation. _'Oh man, Suga’s gonna love this.’_ Kuroo thought.

Even more exciting than resupplying Suga with all the booze in the world was the sight of Kenma curled up on the floor sleeping peacefully.

“Bro! I found Kenma!” Kuroo exclaimed. He was happy to see that his childhood friend was still together in one piece and not mauled by whatever the hell left the rigid indents outside.

“Ugghhh, that’s awesome bro.” Bokuto grumbled as he tried to push himself off the floor. He expected to feel cold concrete under his calloused palms, but instead was met with something _fleshy_.

“...Yeah, that’s awesome broskis…” an unfamiliar voice from under Bokuto commented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We used wikiHow as reference to write the séance scene and holy shit u guys the drawings kill me
> 
> http://www.wikihow.com/Conduct-a-S%C3%A9ance


	8. Two Blonds One Solo Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't worry no one's slurping a cup of shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s New Years without a party scene? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Bokuto rolled off of the groaning body under him and quickly crawled back to Kuroo’s side. Both captain’s eyes widened to the size of plates as an unknown boy pushed himself off the ground. They watched intently as the stranger brought a hand up to rub the back of his head. He finally looked over at the two and noticed that they were staring at him as if he were an alien.

“Wow, I get trashed at a party and wake up next to two hunks. Life is good.” He threw a wink in their direction and ran his fingers through cropped hair, clearly not giving an ounce of a fuck about the odd predicament.

 _“He has a tongue piercing!!”_ Bokuto excitedly whispered to Kuroo.

Kuroo snickered at the bluntness of the mysterious man in front of him. He was shorter than Kuroo and Bokuto, and had a multicolored undercut. Nekoma’s captain turned to Bokuto and gave him a nod of approval. Anyone who thought him and Bo were studs clearly couldn’t be that bad.

Lacking basic judgement and having never learned his _Stranger Danger_ lessons, Bokuto jumped in front of the newcomer and bombarded him with questions about his unconventional piercing. 

Kuroo shoved his curious friend to the side and chastised him. “God damn it Bokuto, you’re scaring him! You always get like this!” Bokuto frowned and cowered from Kuroo’s chiding. His bro was starting to look like his mom that one time he had allowed the ice cream guy to convince him into getting inside the back of the truck. In hindsight, he probably never learned his stranger danger lessons since his mom had taken care to beat his ass into amnesia that night. But damn, those four, free rocket popsicles made it almost worthwhile. Almost.

The ebony haired captain turned his attention back to the semi-confused outsider and gave him a welcoming grin. “Sorry about that, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou and this guy,” he lazily dropped his arm around the yellow-eyed spiker’s shoulder “is Bokuto Koutarou. Nice to meetcha.”

“I’ve heard of you guys before, you play volleyball in Tokyo right?! That’s awesome! I’m the captain of Johzenji from Miyagi, Terushima Yuuji!”

All three boys started enthusiastically talking about the sport they were so passionate about and things only progressed from there. After only ten minutes of talking, they had already become great friends.

“Umm by the way… what the hell happened to this guy?” Terushima asked while pointing a finger at a nude Kenma, who was encrusted over in mahogany. Bokuto rushed to the cat setter’s side and vigorously shook his shoulders in an attempt to wake him. “Oh geez, I almost forgot about him! Kenma, wake up! We’ve been looking all over for you bro!”

“Yo, he might be dead… look at all that blood…” the youngest captain mumbled. Kenma’s bare body was covered in dried blood from the neck down and his breathing was so light you’d have to squint to see any movements in his chest.

Kuroo smirked at the strawberry blonde and approached his comatose friend. “Nah, he’s just a deep sleeper.”

The house was already cold to begin with, but the basement was borderline freezing. Still, Kuroo being the great friend and captain he was, took off his jacket and track pants and put them on Kenma, although the fit was really off.

“I didn’t think you were sucha’ nice guy!” Terushima applauded. Kuroo proudly stood before Johzenji’s captain in his black T-shirt and bright red hot pants before bringing his right hand to his chest.

“I am always this kind.”

Kenma was placed onto the cat captain’s back with the help of a burly owl. While preparing to move out, a perceptible, scraping noise could be heard. It sounded like an extremely large blade was being dragged across the wall just outside of their room. Due to the fact that the ratchet door had come clean off during Bokuto and Kuroo’s earlier tussle, the room was open and vulnerable to whatever was lurking outside of it.

“Uh what was that?” Terushima asked, unaware of the signs of danger the other two captains had just barely came across.

“Err... that was just Bokuto scratching his crusty ass, don’t worry about it!” The messy haired captain hastily reassured.

“No it wasn–” Kuroo jabbed Bokuto in the ribs with his elbow and shot him a look. “Yup it was me! Hehe, haven’t lotioned this ass in ages, sorry.”

“Why don’t you just um… lead the way?” Bokuto suddenly asked, while passing the half melted candle to Terushima. Bokuto managed to slip in a fist bump with Kuroo from behind, appreciating his best friend for always looking out for him. Sure Kuroo was a nice guy, but he wasn’t _that_ nice.

Like the two suggested, Terushima was the first to step out of the room, confident and oblivious to the peril beyond the darkness. The ember only illuminated the mustard-haired boy as the other two nocturnal captains followed behind hidden in the shadows. They got halfway through the basement corridor without any problem. Things were going splendid until Bokuto’s owl-like hearing caught the sound of extra steps behind them. They were distant at first, but he became nervous when the rhythm of the tapping began to pick up, gradually getting louder, closer.

Well this sucked. Their plan to screw over Terushima came to a waste, since the unholy entity was coming from the backside instead of the front. Luckily, the staircase up was within their view, which made Terushima rush with excitement, while the other two hurried due to fear. Terushima zoomed up the stairs at light speed while Bokuto followed close behind. Kuroo was struggling though, lagging behind because of the extra weight of Kenma clutched to his back. The strawberry blonde opened the door and ran out without sparing a glance at the two behind him, eager to reunite with Karasuno, whom Kuroo had mentioned was staying in this house in their earlier conversation. Bokuto looked back just as he too made it to the door and froze when he saw giant claws emerge from the darkness and pinched at Kuroo’s leg like a pair of tweezers. 

“SHIT!” Kuroo yelped as he tripped over on the staircase, smacking his chin hard against a step. He looked down at his exposed leg and saw the tip of a gigantic ivory nail jabbed into his calf, cutting deep into his flesh. The grip was tight and he could feel the sharp end of the nail grazing against his bone; anyone could see that there was a slim chance he could get himself out of the unrelenting grasp. One of the greatest attributes Nekoma’s captain had was his ability to make crucial decisions under high pressure. The raven haired boy turned back at Bokuto with a panic-stricken expression.

“Take Kenma with you!” Kuroo commanded while grabbing the rail in a weak attempt to fight against the force that was pulling him downwards. The incision tore wider the harder Kuroo pulled onto the stair rail; it hurt like a bitch but he knew he was done for if he loosened his grip even the slightest bit. If he was going down, he wasn’t going to take his best friends with him.

“HURRY BRO!!”

Fukurodani’s captain snapped out of his stupor, darting down to where Kuroo was and hoisted Kenma over his left shoulder. Kuroo expected Bokuto to sprint right back up the stairs and hopefully throw him a more lively funeral than Daichi’s, but instead the grey-haired captain squatted down and placed a firm hand on Kuroo’s back. Bokuto bent his knee all the way up to his chest and then kicked down with all his might at the thinnest point of the nail that wasn’t sunken into Kuroo’s leg.

A loud crunch resembling the sound of a bone snapping could be heard after the wing spiker’s forceful stomp.

The claw broke where Bokuto’s foot met with it, leaving what looked like a humongous bee stinger left in his best friend’s leg. A fiendish cry ripped through the air as he quickly threw Kuroo over his other shoulder and broke out in a sprint up the stairs with Nekoma’s captain and vice captain on each side of his head. He made it out of the narrow space and shut the basement door with the back of his heel just as he entered higher ground. He dropped Kuroo and Kenma on the floor and flopped down next to them, trying to catch his breath. Kuroo idly flopped a hand out and ruffled Bokuto’s coarse hair.

* * *

Terushima only made it halfway to the kitchen by the time Kuroo and Bokuto caught up with him. He turned when he heard uneven footsteps behind him, only to see Kuroo hobbling towards him while using Bokuto’s shoulder for support.

“Holy shit! What happened to you Kuroo?!” Last time he checked (which was less than a minute ago), the messy haired captain was right behind him on the staircase with two functioning legs.

Not wanting to put the newcomer into panic about the demonic nature of the house, Kuroo quickly lied and said he fell on his way up, making sure to tilt his leg so that the mustard haired boy couldn’t see the gigantic spike lodged into it.

“Anyways, you wanted to meet everyone right? Bo, call everyone down.”

Bokuto nodded and took a deep breath before calling out “COME HERE GUYS, WE HAVE GOOD NEWS!!”

Most of the house guests quickly made their way to the first floor after hearing Bokuto’s announcement. Terushima carried Kenma out to the living room and laid him down on the couch while Bokuto patiently helped Kuroo limp out of the kitchen. Hinata was the first one to arrive followed by an angry Kageyama, who was fussing about the tiny middle blocker having a head-start. The navy haired setter locked eyes with Terushima and soured his facial expression. “You call _this_ good news?”

“Hey Hinata!! How are ya’?!” Johzenji’s captain joyfully hollered, ignoring Kagayama for the moment.

Hinata dashed right into Terushima’s open arms and hugged him tight, not even wondering how the heck he got here. Out of every team in the Miyagi prefecture, Karasuno got along the best with Johzenji. Terushima saw the menacing aura around Kageyama and pulled him into the hug as well, despite the fact that he was trying to squirm out of it. The rest of Karasuno arrived and started chatting up Johzenji’s captain.

Amidst all the banter, the little middle blocker caught sight of familiar blonde ombré hair. “Kageyama, look! It’s Kenma!! THEY FOUND KENMA!!” Hinata peeled himself out of Terushima’s tight embrace and rushed over to Nekoma’s setter.

Hinata stopped and quieted down when he realized that Kenma was in a deep sleep. “Um, is he going to wake up?”

“I’ve seen this before,” Nishinoya rubbed his chin in contemplation before continuing, "it’s called… the Sleeping Beauty- ”

“Are we really doing this right now–“

“-CALLED the Sleeping Beauty syndrome, and only you, Hinata, can wake him up from it.” Suga narrowed his eyes at Nishinoya, clearly fed up with the shitnanigans.

“What do I need to do?!” Gullible, little Hinata cried out. Both Tanaka and Nishinoya flashed dumb grins and raised brows at one another when Hinata took the bait, just like they thought he would.

“Ya’ gotta kiss hi—” 

“THERE WILL BE NO KISSING!!” Kageyama roared, as he stomped his way over to the sleeping boy and tossed Hinata aside. Bitch-slapping was an understatement as Kenma’s face flew back and forth over the yogurt-loving setter’s passive-aggressiveness. “Wake up dumbass! Do you know how much shit you put us through?!”

The fake blonde remained in his slumbering state, although his cheeks were swelling up from the harsh blows of Karasuno’s angry setter.

“I got this.” Kuroo said as he trudged over to the couch. He slipped his hands in the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out a little pastel pink contraption. He flipped it open next to Kenma’s ears and pressed the grey power button on the device. A charming little melody played as the screen lit up, before the game console could get to the home screen, Kenma’s eyes shot opened and he snatched his DS out of Kuroo’s hands. “I told you not to play with my games.”

“And there you have it.” Kuroo pat Kageyama on the head as he walked past him, a subtle action to warn him to keep his cool when Hinata pounced on Kenma and gave the recently missing setter a tight hug.

“ _Tch._ ” Kageyama supposed that Kenma could have this little freebie, just this once.

Bokuto slumped his shoulders so Kuroo could have an easier time leaning on him. “Bro, do you need me to help you get to a bed? Your leg’s still bleeding…” Everyone was so absorbed in the two blondes at the scene, that no one bothered to notice Kuroo’s rather serious injury.

“Yeah, actually that'd be gre-”

Akaashi suddenly appeared at the bottom of the grand staircase and jogged towards Fukurodani’s captain.

“Bokuto! You found Kenma, I’m so proud of you.” Akaashi wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s neck, purposely shoving Kuroo’s hand off of his boyfriend’s shoulder and making the messy haired captain stumble backwards. Luckily he caught his balance and glared at the beautiful bastard as he did so.

“As a matter of fact, it was me that fou–” Kuroo started.

“Bokuto, you’re not hurt anywhere are you?” Akaashi asked, voice laced with worry as he placed a hand on Bokuto’s cheek and tilted it to the side to look for injuries.

“Funny that you say that, cus’ my legs–” Nekoma’s captain began.

“Nope! I’m perfectly fine!” Bokuto chirped.

Akaashi pulled Bokuto in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, delighted at how capable his captain was. Not yet satisfied with the small action, Bokuto leaned down and gave the ethereal setter a deeper kiss.

“Oh fuck it. Where’s the first aid kit?” Kuroo muttered under his breath. He dragged himself past the overly intimate owl couple and towards the mountain of challenges that was the giant staircase.

“Tsukishima has it. Yamaguchi hasn’t woken up yet, so he’s looking after him in our room.” Akaashi stated after he broke from the kiss and angled his neck to let Bokuto roam his lips on his pale neck.

 _'There’s a special place in hell reserved for you, Akaashi Keiji.’_ Kuroo thought to himself. There was a 50% chance that 'special place' was the throne, because Akaashi was actually Satan himself. He had everyone fooled with his delicate features and polite demeanor, but Nekoma’s captain knew that was all a farce. Kuroo hopped up the stairs on his good leg, salty at the fact that the abhorrent setter was deliberately making his life more harder than it needed to be. He mumbled an insult with every jump he took up the steps, hoping that Akaashi heard each and every last one of them.

* * *

Terushima was the center of attention (as always), surrounded by Karasuno’s third and second years. Prattling with his peers was great and all, but something seemed off… there was someone missing. And then it hit him. Karasuno’s hot ass captain wasn’t here!

“Hey, where's that sweet hunk of manmeat Dadch-”

Tanaka and Nishinoya both slapped a hand over the strawberry blonde's mouth instantaneously. Noya turned his head and quickly summarized Daichi’s current situation to him. His mouth dropped momentarily but quickly composed his expression when he saw Suga watching him curiously.

“Oh, Suga I almost forgot! Kuroo told me to give these to you, he said you liked this brand.” Terushima dropped his hands to his sides and grabbed the necks of the bottles peeking out of his pockets. He swiftly pulled them out and presented two unopened bottles of Hennessy™ to the silver haired setter. Kuroo found the bottles on a hidden rack when they were still in the wine cellar and instructed that Terushima give them to Suga as a housewarming gift. The eyes of Karasuno’s vice captain twinkled with joy as he took both bottles from the younger boy and pinched his cheeks. “Thank you so much!” he exclaimed.

Oikawa pushed Asahi and Tanaka aside to see who the hell was taking all the spotlight. “Move peasants!” He commanded as he strutted past the crowd and stood before the strawberry blonde with sassy hands on his sassy hips. While the arrogant brunet was in front of everyone, he wanted to at least act like his usual self; especially in front of Iwaizumi’s eyes.

The imperious setter looked at Terushima up and down and clicked his tongue, clearly not impressed with his aesthetic. Everything about him screamed _FUCK BOY_. He definitely looked like the kind of guy who’d slap his own ass during sex. The shorter captain’s hairstyle was an abomination, and lord forgive his choice in piercings.

“Woah, why didn’t anyone tell me there was a beaut staying here?” Terushima asked, giving the taller brunet a blinding grin.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as bad as Oikawa thought. He graced Terushima with one of his dazzling smiles that girls trampled over each other to see.

“Did you hear that Iwa-chan? He said I’m pretty~” Seijoh's captain triumphantly said as he tilted his head back at his ace. 

_'Iwa-chan?’_ Terushima peered over Oikawa’s shoulder to get a look at this “Iwa-chan”; he had a cute nickname so he was expecting a dainty little twink to come fumbling in, but boy was he way off the mark.

Iwa-chan, he presumed, walked up next to Oikawa with muscular arms crossed and took an impassive gaze at him. “What a joke. He’s just trying to be nice to you, stupid.”

Terushima’s mouth dropped open and nearly drooled at the sight bestowed before him. He fixated his eyes on the Greek god standing in front of him, all rock hard muscles and glistening caramel glory. If Hercules were to get a spray tan and dye his hair black, this was exactly how he’d look.

Iwaizumi extended his hand and softened the stern look on his face, “Nice to meet you, I'm Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi Hajime.” Rather than taking his hand, Terushima went for those bulky biceps teasingly flexing in front of him. “Iwaizumi? More like Iwai-screw-me, amiright?!”

The tan spiker winced at the horrific pun while Oikawa wasted no time severing Terushima’s grip on Iwaizumi’s arm. Iwa slowly backed away from the mustard haired captain, pulling Oinkywa with him because he could see the murderous intent in his eyes.

Asahi, the Messiah of peace, took this opportunity to intervene between the two parties and change the mood. “Umm, Terushima if you don’t mind me asking… How did you get here?”

Johzenji’s captain stuck out his bottom lip out as he thought long and hard about this. 

“What day is it today?”

“Friday, I think.”

“Oh man… Last time I recall being awake was at a party on a Tuesday.”

* * *

It was 10 p.m. on a school night and the stars had already begun to dance across the night sky. Terushima drank in the view as he kicked his way past the piles of empty beer cans strewn across his teammate’s front lawn. The ear-splitting music that blared to Timbuktu paired with the epilepsy-inducing strobe lights told Terushima that he was in the right place. 

Third. This was the third fucking party that Johzenji had thrown in the same straight week. The reason for it? They won a practice match against a powerhouse school. That’s right. Not even an actual match, but a fucking. Practice. Match. His teammates probably took it too seriously when he said they should get “hyped up”, but being the supportive captain that he was, the strawberry blonde felt obligated to show up anyways. He just hoped that his liver would be able to keep up, lest he end up in another stiff hospital bed come morning. Shielding his eyes from the blinding light show just ahead of him, Terushima finally stumbled his way to the steps leading up to the front door, only to be blocked off by two figures entangled upon one another; the couple currently too preoccupied with sucking each others’ faces off to even bother with acknowledging Terushima. Oh for fuck’s sake. Of course it’d be Kunimi and Kindaichi. Who in their right mind invited them??

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you losers make out elsewhere and traumatize people that aren’t me?”

“Shut hell. YOU!” Kindaichi sputtered out dumbly before swinging an illy aimed punch towards the second year captain, nearly hitting Kunimi in the process.

Oh good, the turnip-head was already shit-faced; this made Terushima’s job a thousand times easier. As Kindaichi revved himself up for another punch at the air, the blonde nudged a finger atop the drunk’s forehead and waited for gravity to finish the job. As expected, Kindaichi threw a punch at nothing, before tripping over himself and falling ungracefully over the front porch’s railing. The fall was one meter at best, but that didn’t stop the turnip head from howling with exaggerated pain. “Holy shit, you’re so sexy Terushima. You should kick my boyfriend’s ass more often.” Kunimi’s hot breath ghosted over Teru’s ear while the pungent stench of cheap alcohol hit his nose. The lazy wing spiker of Aoba’s team even had the audacity to snake his hands up the captain’s chest.

“Oh ew. Not even ten tequila shots could lower my standards enough.” Kunimi’s eyes widened just as Terushima shoved him over the same railing, watching in amusement as Kindaichi howled in actual pain this time. Turning back towards the door, Terushima rapped his knuckles hard against the wood, in hopes of gaining someone’s attention from over the loud music. The doorbell was a no go, seeing as how it got destroyed during the last party, courtesy of the neighborhood patrol. No one had gotten the door that time since the music was five times as loud and over half the party guests had already passed out. 

When the door was finally pulled open, Terushima had expected one of his teammates, but was instead greeted by the towering, six foot form of Aone pointing a finger directly at his face. _‘Nope. Not dealing with this.’_ Johzenji’s captain ducked underneath the Dateko giant’s awkward declaration of war and made his way into the trashed interior of his teammate’s house. He didn’t even make it past the corridor before he caught sight of Aone’s baby-sitter standing in a dark corner, snapping his hips wildly against a houseplant of all things. Futakuchi stared back at Terushima as he continued the mindless dry humping. Good God. The night had barely begun and Terushima was already in dire need of a drink. Facing forward, he headed towards the kitchen, only to spot a familiar head of silky, raven hair talking to a blonde munchkin near the kitchen counter. Hot diggity dog. The crop-haired captain slid his way in front of the blondie before they could protest.

“Hey babe, you a parking ticket? Cuz’ you got “fine” written all over you~”

“Oh. That’s new.” Kiyoko barely bat an eyelash as she took another sip of her drink.

Terushima was about to spew some more cheesy pick up lines, when he felt weak jabs against his back. 

“Get away from her! You… you dumb fudge boy!” Yachi mustered out, continuing to randomly slap at his back. Terushima couldn’t hold in his laughter, almost wheezing when he heard her censored version of “fuck boy”. The blonde captain turned around to ruffle at the innocent, little manager’s hair.

“Don’t worry little one, I’m just gonna get her number and then I’ll be on my merry way!”

“The only digits you’re getting are gonna be from these hands!”

“Ok, who let this child drink?? Where are her parents?” Yachi tried her best to hold back the tears bubbling up from behind her eyes, but ended up bawling at the comment. Yikes. Terushima took this as a signal to make his escape, yanking a filled solo cup from the counter as he slid away with a speed rivaling that of Sonic on adderall.

He kept his head low as he shuffled his way into the living room, downing the cheap vodka in his hand as quickly as he could. Staying sober was definitely not an option anymore, so he was thankful that the coffee table was filled to the brim with alcohol. At least that was what he had thought, before a certain eyebrow-less blonde made his way to said table, clearing off all the bottles with one sweep of an arm. Surprisingly, nothing spilled as the bottles hit the floor, putting a single question inside of Teru’s head: _What kind of lame ass party runs out of booze before 11 pm?_

As he cleared the table, Kyoutani laid out what seemed to be three lines of… no it couldn’t be. The fake blonde whipped out a tiny wad of paper, rolling it tight before sticking it up one nostril, snorting all three lines in quick succession. The dude was a fucking pro, but who wouldn’t be if they were stuck on Aoba Johsai.

“Fuck ya’ looking at?” Mad Dog spat out, a ring of white decorating his right nostril.

“Uhhhhhhh….. Nothing?”

“Good answer.” 

Kyoutani got up from his sitting position and made his way out the room, only to return with an extremely inebriated Yahaba in tow. They gave Terushima quite the show, tonguing each other passionately before the brunet was roughly pushed down atop the coffee table, breaking the piece of furniture in half. “Ah dammit, now where am I gonna do my lines?” 

“You can do it on me~” Yahaba’s seductive tone hit their ears as he tilted his boyfriend’s head down towards him, using his other hand to slide up his own shirt, revealing a massive, beer belly. The roundness of the surface didn’t stop Mad Dog from trying anyways; the man wanted his “sugar” and he’d be damned if he didn’t get it. Terushima decided that now was as good of a time as any to remove himself from whatever the hell it was that was happening in front of him. Johzenji’s captain began backing his way out towards an adjacent room, before some side-convo caught his ear.

“Damn dude, isn’t that Karasuno’s coach?”

“Yeah man, at first I was like ‘why the fuck is a teacher here?’, but then I decided to bet fifty that he could finish the keg. He’s a hot mess dude.”

Terushima knew he’d regret it, but his damn curiosity made him turn his head anyway, allowing him to come face to face with a not so innocent blonde. Or rather, face to ass. Coach Ukai was wall twerking while simultaneously chugging a keg, and for god knows why, a crowd was beginning to grow around his shaking buttocks. 

“Wow.” Kiyoko muttered out next to him, as she whipped out her phone to snap pics of future blackmail material. Terushima didn’t think much of it as he was too busy doing the same, making one of them his phone’s background. Although, it was for a completely different, and more “private” purpose. 

It was all fun and games until Yachi entered the room looking for her gal pal. However, she immediately (and unfortunately) locked eyes with the blatantly immoral twenty-six year old, who had just waggled his ass around like a starved two-star hooker. Ukai let the straw to the keg drop from his mouth. In the back, someone could be vaguely heard screaming about losing fifty bucks.

“UuuggghhH~ shiiiieeettt–”

Yachi let out a deafening screech before dropping to the floor and fainting. Was it from the fear of having been caught underaged at a party by her coach, or was it from the trauma of having to stare at said coach’s stripper-esque ass? The world may never give a fuck.

Kiyoko tended to the petite blondie with a grimace as Ukai made a break towards an open window. Well, it was more of a slow crawl on all fours, very similar to that of a neutered animal. He was pretty wasted after all.

Ukai let out this one last slur before dropping out the window, “ ain’t nObodie seen noboday… whoz party dis is anyway?” and ultimately passed out on the lawn, face-down-ass-up style. What a legend.

Terushima had already finished his drink by the time all this happened, so he couldn’t bring himself to give more than a quarter of a fuck. He threw his empty cup behind him indiscriminately, earning him a random slew of curses, before he went back on his neverending quest to get shit-faced.

Then it hit him! His teammate always kept a stash of quality booze hidden inside his parents’ room. It was without a doubt, his teammate’s most ingenious plan, hiding the alcohol from right under their noses. Terushima practically sprinted up the stairway, just narrowly avoiding several sleeping partiers. But little did he know, one was still awake. Only three steps separated him from the second floor when he felt a sharp tug on one of his ankles, stopping him in his tracks. Terushima looked down in confusion, drawing a line from the arm grabbing him to a tuft of stark red, spiky hair.

“Tendou?!”

“Y-you... you need to stop him man…!! He’s making a mistake!!”

“Bro please, can’t this wait until after I get wasted?”

The crazed middle blocker hissed at him before using his other hand to latch onto Terushima’s track pants, slowly climbing his way up the wobbling blonde’s body. He stopped when his hands were clutching the collar of Teru’s shirt, giving him a good shake.

“Whoa dude!! What are you doi–”

“You gotta... stop... _him_!!”

“Stop who?! You’re not making any sense! Actually nothing at this party is making sense!”

“Ushi– _BLARGGGhh!!!_ ” Tendou’s stomach finally gave out on him, causing him to puke over the stair rails. The fingers that were just grasping Johzenji’s captain loosened as Tendou’s body slumped down, sliding over the other passed out drunks, before it finally came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs in a crime scene-like position. The brief encounter had Terushima feeling uneasy as he made his way closer to the master bedroom. He was about to turn the knob, when he heard muffles of voices from the other side. Damn! He wasn’t alone. The second year captain kept the door slightly ajar, just enough for him to peer inside without causing too much creaking noises. What he saw made him question whether or not he was still sober, his jaw dropping to the floor.

The figure’s back was turned to Terushima as they lay atop the king-sized bed, but there was no mistaking that it belonged to one of Japan’s top aces. From his position, he could tell that there was a person pinned underneath, against the mattress.

**“Say it. Say that you love me Oikawa.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 got way too long so we divided it into 2  
> This whole chapter is straight cocaine tbh shoutout to ya boy Kyoutani


	9. Intense Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the jacked up party
> 
> Ushijima needs Jesus in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One word to describe this chapter: Trainwreck

“Now wait a damn minute, I sure as hell don’t remember attending this pleb-fest!” Oikawa blurted out. He flipped his head back towards Iwaizumi who looked more betrayed than shocked.

“Really Shittykawa? Ushijima Waka-fucking-toshi of all people..?” 

“Nononononono! This man spews LIES!” The brunet frantically pointed at the storytelling culprit, “I _hate_ Ushiwaka, I thought this was common knowledge!” Oikawa cried. Iwaizumi calmed himself after taking a moment to think about Terushima’s story. _‘Oikawa would never let Ushijima catch him alone; not unless he was planning on killing him or something…’_

Iwaizumi sighed and apologized for jumping to conclusions. “Sorry, I was wrong. I trust you, okay?” Oikawa started one of his annoying “Mean Iwa-chan!” rants, so the spiker tried to pacify him with some more apologies and soothing rubs. 

“And?! What happened next?” Tanaka and the others yelled out, clearly enthralled in the story.

Terushima looked deathly pale. “Sorry bros, could you give me a sec?”

The crop-haired captain leaned over to yank the wine bottle he recently gifted to Suga out of his hand, popping off the cork to take an extremely long swig. Over a third of the bottle was gone when it was handed back to a wide-eyed Suga. Dare he say that Terushima was better at wine drinking than he was? These thoughts would keep him awake at night. 

Hinata shuffled closer to Teru, his doe eyes practically begging for him to continue the story. Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Kageyama followed suit.

“Ok… you asked for it.”

\----------

“Say it. Say you love me, Oikawa.”

Ushijima was standing in front of a restrained brunet, whose arms and legs were bound by what looked to be multiple pantyhoses. The ace’s breath reeked of alcohol as he breathed out heavily. The brunet was splayed on top of the bed, writhing around wildly like a caught mackerel, his face contorted in fear. 

“For the last time… my name’s not Oikawa!”

Shiratorizawa’s ace narrowed his eyes sharply at this, moving to untie the victim’s wrists in order to roughly push his shirt up and over his head.

“P-please man! You don’t have to do this! I swear I won’t tell anyone–” His shaky voice was cut off into a muffle when Ushijima pulled a new shirt over him, retying the brunet’s hands together right after. Terushima recognized the white and turquoise fabric almost immediately.

The darker brunet leaned back to marvel at his work, licking his lips all the while as his eyes traced the outline of the number “one” plastered on the front of the stolen Aoba Johsai T-shirt. “Oikawa...” he drawled out disturbingly, bending back down to cover the stiff brunet’s body. Ushijima leaned his nose against the fabric, inhaling deeply as the body beneath him shuddered in revulsion. “Mmmh Oikawa… say that you love me.”

“My names Futakuchi dammit!!” Dateko’s captain quickly turned his attention to the left corner of the room, eyes wide with panic. “Babe… don’t look at me! Ok?! Don’t look at me!”

Ushijima was the only other person in the room, so Terushima guessed that it was the leafy houseplant that he was currently screaming at. It seemed to be the same exact one Futakuchi was thrusting upon earlier that evening. The blonde captain couldn’t tell whether it was hard drugs or if the brunet was legitimately in a relationship with a living room arrangement; the thought alone was disconcerting. Shiratorizawa’s ace looked downright pissed, giving the loud brunet a sharp cuff across the face to shut him up, before edging off the bed to walk towards the houseplant. With a sturdy grip around the plant, Ushijima ripped its roots out of the pot with a force, wringing the life out of it with crazed anger. He returned to the bed to lay down the crumpled mass of torn leaves and crooked stems next to Futakuchi’s whimpering face.

“Why are you crying?” Ushijima’s eyes practically gleamed with insanity as he rubbed a thumb over the swollen area of Futakuchi’s cheek, “Isn’t it much more exciting to have someone watching?” He let some of the crumpled leaves fall onto Futakuchi’s chest for added effect, smearing it into the jersey while he revelled in his little ‘Oikawa’s’ distraught.

“Y-you... monster...” Futa whispered between broken sobs as Ushiwhackamole grabbed at his sniveling face to have his way with the smaller brunet’s mouth. Terushima was now seventy percent sure that this was a crack party and no one had cared to give him the damn memo.

“Mmf… now say it.”

Futakuchi wrung his mouth away to spit at Ushijima’s face, the latter wiping it off with contempt in his eyes. “Make me, you bastard!!” 

When the frightened partier didn’t comply for the second time, Ushijima sat back up to flip him around onto his stomach, pulling his shorts down to expose his naked rump to the night’s air. The crazed ace raised his left hand up before moving to whisper into the distressed brunet’s ear. 

“You’ve left me no choice, Oikawa. Looks like I’m going to have to discipline you.” With that, Ushijima smacked at the boy’s right cheek with the strength that he used to spike volleyballs, causing a red handprint to quickly form as the brunet yelped out in pain. He kept repeating the process until Futakuchi finally gave in, lowering his forehead down onto the mattress.

“I... love you– Ah!! Ushijima-kun..!!” He managed to whimper out. Terushima got a weird boner off of this as he awaited for the right moment to move towards the closet door.

“Good boy. That’s what I wanted to hear.” The ace turned him back around to wipe at the tears forming at the edges of both his eyes, but Futa just whipped his head to the side in disgust, landing his eyes right onto the mustard-blonde peeping tom. Before he could say anything, Ushijima had plunged a sock into his opened mouth, effectively silencing him.

“I’m going to make you feel so good Oikawa, but I can’t have you screaming now,” he chuckled out lowly in his villainous, baritone voice. The brunet hardly paid attention to Ushijima’s words, trying to direct the ace’s attention off of him and towards Johzenji’s captain, who was currently tiptoeing behind the ace’s hulking back like a fucking cartoon character. 

Terushima lifted a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion when he found the brunet staring at him wide-eyed, as if the partier was trying to say _‘What the fuck man? Help me out here!’_

The blonde captain glared back to say something along the lines of _‘Dude I know, just give me a second!’_

Ushijima pulled his shirt over his head, tossing the material right onto Terushima’s head, completely unaware of the silent conversation going on in the background. His humongous hard-on pressed right into the brunet’s thigh as the low-budget Oikawa looked up to send one last message.

_‘JUST HURRY THE FUCK UP BEFORE SOMETHING ELSE GETS FUCKED!!!’_

Terushima threw him a lopsided smile through the crumpled shirt, shakily holding up a thumbs-up before slithering into the darkness of the closet. His heart was practically hammering out of his chest as he held his breath, trying his best to rummage through the closet as quietly as possible. It was going well until Ushijima’s forty-year-old man voice hit his ears.

“Lift your ass up more.”

Terushima internally screeched as he picked up the pace, flinging baskets and containers here and there until he heard the tell-tale clinking of bottles in a darkened corner.

Bingo! Johzenji’s captain grabbed at one of the bottles, holding onto the neck tightly with resolute determination as he slid his way out of the closet door. Ushijima’s hands were full, quite literally, of ass. This was the perfect time to knock him out cold and Terushima wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him up. _‘Slowly now. Gotta make it count.’_ Terushima held in his breath as he positioned the bottle in the best possible angle, his hands clammy around the neck of the bottle.  
Futakuchi spit out the sock when he felt Ushijima begin to probe around at his asshole. “DO IT!!!”

“Wha–” Ushijima began to turn his head around.

“Fuck.” The aim was a bit off, but Terushima managed to shatter a majority of the bottle over the unaware ace (RIP _Grey Goose bottle_ , you will be missed [1997 - 2017]).

Instead of falling over, Ushijima stood up, a stream of blood running down the side of his face from an open cut. The giant’s deranged hawk-like eyes were the last things Terushima saw before flying back into wall with a resounding crack.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Terushima mumbled on the floor, rubbing at his face where Ushijima’s fist had just connected. Futakuchi just HAD to open his mouth at the most crucial moment! No matter, there wasn’t much use in dwelling on it, or rather no time to; Ushijima was already charging at him to presumably, land another blow. The cropped-haired captain narrowly dodged the second punch, nearly tripping over him as he made a dash for one of the sharp pieces of the destroyed vodka bottle. He quickly scrambled to the bed, sawing at the pantyhoses that were holding down Futakuchi.

“Damn! What are these made out of?? Titanium?!” But nonetheless, he was able to cut through the material, holding Futa sharply against him as they backed up into a corner.

During this ordeal, Futa could’ve sworn that something brushed up against his thigh, “W-wha... You sick fuck!! Is that a boner-”

“HOUGHHDHFH HOOOGH,” Terushima coughed loudly in an attempt to drown out Futa’s voice. They were now standing face to face with the lunatic ace, who was now drawing closer each passing second.

“Terushima from Johzenji. You are going to have to do a lot better than that if you wish to take me down.” The ace flicked a speck of the bottle off of his shoulder, licking the blood away from the side of his mouth.

“What are we going to do??” Futa half whispered as he clenched his fingers around the edge of Teru’s shirt. Terushima rolled his eyes. This was the last time he was going to help out a stranger. To hell with good karma.

“Just shut up and let me do the talking!” Terushima pasted an uneasy smile onto his face as he turned back towards Ushijima.

“H-heyy bro… why don’t we put all this behind us? Let’s be real, you can do a lot better than this.” The blonde captain gestured towards an offended Futakuchi, who slapped at the spot where Teru was nursing his battle wound.

“Ow!!! You fucking- ...ahem,” he started again when he felt Ushijima’s patience beginning to wear thin, “Why not go for the real deal? I’ll help you get this Oikawa guy’s number, you let me get into that stash of booze behind you, and Futakuchi here, can leave with his mouth shut about all this. Sound good?”

“No.”

“Well I tried,” Terushima pushed Futakuchi in front of him as a sort of human shield, preparing for both their demises, when quiet sobbing hit his ears. Ushi-fucking-waka was crying in front of them and he wondered if they were all in the Twilight Zone.

“Oikawa… he’ll never love me, not with that weakling Iwaizumi in the way…” Ushijima used an arm to wipe away at his quickly, reddening eyes. Go figure, the guy was a sad drunk.

Futakuchi began to walk up to the ace, as Terushima quietly circled around to the back of the room, picking up the now empty houseplant pot. Gentle hands moved themselves to cup at Ushijima’s face, holding him still, as a thumb brushed away stray tears in a soothing manner. Futa graced the ace with a warm smile, eyes softening. He kept the darker brunet’s gaze focused on him and away from Johzenji’s captain, who managed to get behind the ace.

“I’m sure that’s not true, he’ll return your feelings one day. You shouldn’t give up…” 

_‘Sike,’_ both Terushima and Futakuchi thought in their heads.

Ushijima stopped his sniffling, grasping at Futa’s wrists far too harshly for someone who was just bawling like a baby moments ago. He suddenly grinned, baring his teeth in an animal-like manner.

“...You’re right. I shouldn’t give up. All I need to do is take that Iwaizumi trash out of the picture. Then Oikawa will have no choice, but to choose me.”

Futakuchi smiled back nervously, trying not to yelp out in pain at the pressure on his wrists, flickering his eyes towards Terushima as a signal to do the deed.

Just as the crop-haired captain began to lift up the last remnants of the houseplant, the bedroom door creaked open to reveal the dark-blunt bangs of Goshiki. The younger wing spiker looked back and forth between Ushijima holding hands with some random guy and Terushima, holding a pot above his captain’s head. His mouth was agape, but nothing came out since his brain was still trying, and failing, to process the situation.

Terushima looked right into Goshiki’s eyes as he smashed the material against the back of Ushijima’s head, causing the ace to finally slump over.

“EEEEEKK!!” Goshiki cried out, before Terushima spoke out in an almost robotic-like manner. 

“No witnesses.” 

The wing spiker tried to hightail it out of the room, but lost against Terushima in terms of speed. Using his fuckboi powers, Teru jumped atop Goshiki, wrapping an arm around his neck from behind in a surprise chokehold. When he was sure that Goshiki was knocked out from oxygen deprivation, he released his hold on him. The tired captain decided to drag his sleeping body back down the stairs, laying him next to Tendou, in hopes of making things a bit less suspicious. He trudged back up the stairs to a shaken Futakuchi, who thanked him before moving to weep over the crumpled corpse of his past plant-lover.

It was then that Terushima noticed a solo cup sitting prettily on the nightstand, so naturally, he reached for it whilst ignoring the incessant cries of the other. 

“Wait!! Don’t drink that– that’s what he used to put me out!”

“Fina-fucking-ly...” Teru muttered, blocking out the shouts as he brought the drink to his lips, downing it to the horror of counterfeit Oikawa. Hmmm, did that guy always look that wobbly and fuzzy? 

“Oooohhh fuuuuck~” Terushima mouthed against the carpet he just dropped on. The whole world rapidly spun around him before dimming out completely for the third time that week.

\-------------

“Hmmm, now that I think about it, that doesn’t really explain how I got here. I guess I just passed out and somehow ended up next to that Kenma guy. Wild, right?” Terushima concluded, like it was an actual plausible conclusion to the mess that was his situation.

“BOKEEEE!!!!” Kageyama screeched, feeling scammed for having wasted his time listening to the entirety of the whack ass story, only to get nothing out of it.

Oikawa gave out a long shudder, “I think I need a shower...”

“Bro.” Everyone else said in unison.

* * *

Kuroo managed to get to the second floor by himself without falling down by some otherworldly phenomenon. With sweat rolling down his forehead and pain throbbing in his calf, Kuroo pushed himself onwards. By the time he made it to the doorframe of his room, he was out of breath and it was getting hard to ignore the growing discomfort in his leg.

Tsukishima was sitting in a chair next to the bed Yamaguchi laid on, idly flipping through an old book. Asahi and Hinata both recovered from the repercussions of the séance, but the pinch server was still knocked out cold from having a chair smashed over his head.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Tsukishima muttered when he noticed Kuroo leaning on the doorframe, watching him leisurely. 

“Nurse Tsukki, I’m in need of desperate care!” Kuroo sarcastically exclaimed. “It seems that I’ve hurt my leg… when I fell for you.” He threw a wink Tsukishima’s way, causing the blonde middle blocker to cringe from the disgusting display.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” Tsukishima warned. It was getting really hard for him to control his emotions around the pesky captain. He tried his best to put their recent make-out session out of mind. _‘Kuroo was just messing around with me’_ he had tried to convince himself.

The blonde middle blocker relaxed a bit when he saw Kuroo pull up a chair on the other side of the bed, blocking Tsukki’s view of him from the waist down. The messy haired captain was keeping his distance from him, which was supposed to be good, but for some reason Tsukki found himself feeling more disappointed than glad. The younger boy watched Kuroo reach for the first aid kit on the nightstand.

 _'I guess he did fall down.’_ Tsukishima thought. He instinctively averted his eyes back to his book when Kuroo bent down towards him. Once Kuroo’s head was out of view, he glanced over again and couldn’t help but study the way Kuroo’s black T-shirt hugged tight against the toned muscles of his back.

Kuroo took a deep breath and wrapped both hands around the giant spike lodged in him. Cold sweat formed at his temples and his fingers shook from nervousness of the inevitable pain. The claw was about four inches deep into his flesh, every little movement sent a sharp pain down his nerves. He shut his eyes tight and mentally told himself that this was nothing compared to the time Kenma used his balls as a scratching post.

He flexed his biceps and tightened his grip around the ivory nail. _‘The quicker this goes, the better.’_ He heaved the entire spike out in one powerful tug and swore through gritted teeth.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” Kuroo bellowed. His leg was on fire, blood was pouring out like crazy. The nail had acted like a plug, keeping all the internal bleeding trapped in the incision, but now it was gushing out like a geyser.

“Kuroo, shut up. Yamaguchi is still sleeping, you over-dramatic…” the conviction in Tsukishima’s voice trailed off when he saw a path of crimson starting from the doorway to where Kuroo was. He shot up out of his chair so fast it tipped over and circled around the bed to see Kuroo’s leg leaking a profuse amount of blood.

“Give me the kit.” Tsukishima commanded in a grave tone as he held out his hand and kneeled down in front of the injured boy.

“It’s no biggie Tsukki, justa’ small cut…” Kuroo was raised to be as independent as a stray cat. Growing up, he never asked or needed the help of others and definitely didn’t plan on starting now.

“Give me the fucking kit Kuroo Tetsurou, or I’ll make it hurt three times worse.”

“God I love it when you’re rough with me.”

Vexed, the blonde reached up and yanked the kit out of Kuroo’s hands and quickly reached for the hand towel he placed next to Yamaguchi. He folded the cloth twice, big enough to cover the gash in Kuroo’s leg and thick enough to absorb excess blood. He pressed the towel onto the abrasion to stop the bleeding and probably exerted more force than he needed to, but he couldn’t help it; he was pissed. Oh so very pissed at the messy haired boy above him.

“How did this happen?” Tsukishima asked with frustration very apparent in his voice. Kuroo had slid the piece of the claw under the bed before Tsukki came over, so the blonde had no idea how this giant laceration was made.

“I tripped.” He shrugged.

Technically that’s what happened anyway. Tsukishima pulled the gauze out of the first aid kit and replaced the scarlet soaked towel with cotton. Falling down didn’t cause stab wounds, Tsukki knew that much, but he decided against inquiring any further since it was unimportant. Kuroo was hurt and needed medical attention. Not being as skilled as Akaashi, Tsukki forewent putting in sutures for the time being. The blonde began wrapping the wound, round and round as he processed what he wanted to say to the irresponsible man he was bandaging.

“Why don’t you ever ask for help? You could have died from blood loss and this isn't a fucking hospital, so we can't do a transfusion. Stop trying to act cool all the time... God, I'm younger than you, so why the hell do I have to be the one to give you this lecture?” The words just barraged out of Tsukishima’s mouth. He was confused and irritated. Never in his life did Tsukishima care about the wellbeing of others, so why was Kuroo a special exception? The only reason he was even looking after Yamaguchi was because he was appointed the role of being the freckled boy’s caretaker by the rest of the house by unanimous vote. The newfound recognition that he gave somewhat of a damn about Kuroo was a strange and uncomfortable concept to him.

Tsukishima’s complaints went in one ear and out the other. Kuroo watched the way Tsukki’s long fingers glided effortlessly around his leg. The sleazy captain often imagined them in this position; with him reclined in a chair and Tsukishima kneeled between his legs, though they were under totally different circumstances from his fantasies. He chuckled to himself when he thought about how much things between him and Tsukki changed within the matter of days. Under normal conditions, Kuroo wouldn’t put it past Tsukki to watch him flop on the floor and bleed to death.

Nekoma’s captain turned his attentions to the soft pink lips opening and closing, remembering how smooth they felt against his own this morning. The words falling out of the younger boy’s mouth were without a doubt venomous, but his face showed anything but. Thin eyebrows knit together and the corner of his taut lips just barely curved down. His amber eyes didn’t have their usual glint of anger in them, if anything he looked concerned.

_Concerned?_

Kuroo's heart skipped three beats when he came to the realization that Tsukishima Kei was worried about him.

Tsukishima, who was still stringing together insults and complaints, finished dressing the injury and safety pinned the bandages in place. He sighed once he was done and ended his rant with, “You are by far the most bothersome person I have ever had to deal with.”

Tsukki waited for a reply that never came. Instead, a warm hand slipped under his chin and tilted his head up. Before he knew it, Kuroo was kissing him. Unlike their last encounter, there was a gentleness in the way their lips pressed together. He was shocked, but immediately closed his eyes and kissed him back without a second thought. Tsukishima leaned in and slowly melded into the older man’s touch, his annoyance from earlier completely dissipating. Kuroo pulled back after a few seconds, causing Tsukki’s lips to follow in suit; a magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.

“Thanks.” Kuroo murmured. The taller boy looked dazzled, flushed and lips partially open, Kuroo’s favorite expression he'd discovered thus far. That deep blush of magenta Tsukki was sporting was going to become his new favorite color.

A hand placed on Tsukki's lower back guided him upwards until he found himself straddled over Kuroo. Tsukishima’s long legs crossed behind the two pegs of the chair and looked down at the messy haired boy with curious desire. Kuroo leaned back, slid off Tsukki’s black-rimmed glasses and placed them on the nightstand. Even without his glasses, Tsukishima could see and _feel_ Kuroo’s avid eyes staring from below him. The blonde didn’t understand why he had a tingling sensation in his stomach or know why his chest felt so congested. The only thing he did know however, was his inexplicable craving for another taste of Kuroo Tetsurou.

Tsukishima leaned down and never broke contact with the entrancing hazel eyes. He rested his weight against Kuroo’s sturdy chest and ran his fingers through surprisingly soft, black locks. It was a bit daunting how relaxed Kuroo was compared to him. His heart was racing the same way it had the first night he and Kuroo met in the kitchen. The older boy was laying back in his seat watching Tsukki with half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly curved in a subtle grin. Kuroo lazily stroked the younger blocker’s back, coaxing him to continue.

Both of them closed their eyes when Tsukki was mere centimeters from Kuroo’s face. Right as their lips were about to connect, Yamaguchi yawned and stirred a bit. Tsukki pulled back and let out a sigh.

“Yamaguchi’s going to wake up…”

Kuroo’s patience was running especially thin. Tsukishima was finally about to initiate something on his own accord and Kuroo had tried his best to let the blonde take things at his own pace. There was no way in hell he was letting an opportunity like this slip through his fingers, the mood was right and Tsukki was willing for once.

“I don’t care… he can watch us. C’mere.”

Kuroo pulled Tsukishima in with a tug and captured those plush, pink lips with his own. The younger boy intuitively parted his mouth and entwined his tongue with Kuroo’s. Tsukishima’s concerns were quickly swept under the rug as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. Through Tsukki’s thin shirt, Kuroo could feel two erect nubs pressing firmly against his chest. While their mouths were busy, Kuroo slipped his hand under the paler boy’s tee and slowly skimmed upwards across his lean torso. When his fingers reached Tsukishima’s stiffened nipple, he pinched it with his thumb and index finger, eliciting a noise that was a cross between a moan and a gasp from the blonde boy.

Kuroo tilted his head back to look at the work of art squirming on top of him. Tsukki’s eyes were shut tight and his breathing was ragged. The messy haired boy could feel the jolt that went through Tsukishima with every squeeze of his fingers. Kuroo’s erection grew with every arousing reaction the blonde was giving him. He roughened his touch, rolling and pressing, making sweet sounds pour out of the younger blocker’s mouth.

“Fuck Tsukki, you’re so sensitive.”

Before Kuroo could slide off Tsukishima’s shirt completely, the bed in front of them rustled. Yamaguchi slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Mmmh... Tsukki, is that you?” The freckled boy yawned.

Tsukishima’s eyes shot open in fear when he heard his friend’s voice. Without wasting a second, he stood up straight and kicked Kuroo in his bad leg, causing Nekoma’s captain to tumble over. The blonde quickly shoved Kuroo under the bed with his foot like a nervous tween hiding his dirty mags before his mother inspected his room.

“What was that Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, eyes open and fully awake. Tsukishima was standing at the side of his bed, completely red from the neck up.

“Just killing a roach, don’t worry about it. Does your head feel better?” 

“Yeah, it’s just a small migraine now.” The freckled boy shyly turned his face away. Tsukki’s lips were glistening with saliva and his clothes were dischevled, giving Yamaguchi less-than-pure thoughts. “Were you taking care of me this whole time…?” There was a bit of eagerness in Yamaguchi’s voice, the idea of Tsukishima worried at his bedside was something he only ever dreamed of. If anything, he was expecting Tsukki to spend all his free time with Nekoma’s captain.

Tsukishima looked down at Kuroo who was poking his head out from under the bed and flicking him off for kicking him so suddenly. The blonde rolled his eyes and looked back at Yamaguchi.

“Not because I wanted to.” Tsukki replied. The tall blonde circled back to the other side of the bed and picked up the chair he tipped over. Before settling down, he passed Yamaguchi a water bottle.

“T-Thank’s a lot Tsukki.” the finicky pinch server said. He drank a third of the bottle, his gulps being the only noise in the awkward silence between him and Tsukki. He placed the bottle on the nightstand, next to the open first aid kit that had bloody fingerprints on it. “Did you hurt yourself too, Tsukki?”

“No, Kuroo was here earlier.” 

A pang of sadness shot through Yamaguchi’s frail heart. Even when he had Tsukki at his bedside, Kuroo always managed to snake his way in somehow. He really didn’t want to know the details between his best friend and Nekoma’s captain, aware that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, but against his better judgement he asked anyways.

“Um so… are you and Kuroo dating now..?” 

Tsukishima scowled at the olive haired boy. “No, why the fuck would I date a loser like him?” Tsukki knew that Kuroo was still under the bed listening to his harsh words.

“But this morning… you two were kissing each other right?” Yamaguchi felt a little better after confirming that the two were not exclusive, but it didn’t change the fact that they were somewhat intimate with each other.

“That was all Kuroo. It meant nothing.” It really was all Kuroo’s fault… in the beginning at least. But Tsukki would rather go down in flames before he admitted that he was into it too. Tsukishima snuck a glance at the underside of the bed, but Kuroo never stuck out his head again and remained hidden under the bed.

Yamaguchi finally smiled for the first time since this trip started, feeling relieved that it was a one-sided relationship and Tsukishima was still as single as ever. “If you’re feeling awake now, let’s head downstairs. Everyone’s yelling about some stupid party and Ushiwaka.” Tsukishima said as he stood up. His stomach felt like it was knotting itself tighter the more they talked about Kuroo, so he wanted to end the conversation there before he felt something as foolish as guilt.

“Sure thing Tsukki!” Yamaguchi said as he hopped out of bed and followed Tsukki out the door.

From under the bed Kuroo watched the tall duo exit the room and frowned. His mental counter of “Yamaguchi’s daily cockblock” increased to two.

To be honest, it kind of sucked having to listen to his crush roast him like that, but Tsukishima’s cold words didn’t phase him that much. Kuroo himself was confident that Tsukishima felt some type of way about him. If Tsukishima wanted to be in denial, that was fine. 

He'd fall for him eventually.

* * *

Hinata was sitting on the couch next to Kenma, who was on his DS checking his game files to make sure no one fucked anything up while he was MIA. The tiny middle blocker leaned in closer to Kenma to have a better look at the screen. Maybe a little _too_ close to Kenma for Kageyama’s liking. Kageyama was standing in front of the couch, staring daggers at Nekoma’s second year, hoping that they would materialize from the intensity and actually stab him. When he ran out of patience (a solid twelve seconds) he peeled the tiny middle blocker from Kenma and spoke up.

“How did you end up in the basement, Kenma?” 

The quiet setter put his pastel pink contraption aside and looked up at Kageyama, eyes impassive as ever.

“Before he explains that, isn’t there something you should say to him?” The little ginger chastised.

Kageyama glared down at Hinata, who quickly behaved himself, convinced that the navy haired setter was going to smack him into another dimension. Kageyama turned his attention back to Kenma and took a deep breath.

“Kenma, I’m...s... starry... s-safari… sorry. For giving you a concussion.” The intense setter mumbled.

Nekoma’s vice captain didn’t say he forgave him for his brash actions, but instead answered his previous question.

“I woke up and found myself in a small closet, still bloodstained and nude the way you left me, until I heard a loud crashing noise. My head was pulsing and I couldn’t see very well in the dark. Someone opened the door and mumbled something along the lines of 'Oh great, he’s already dead.’ and 'Good thing they didn’t find this.’ I acted like I was still unconscious because I had a bad feeling about the situation. It sounded like a male, and kind of familiar too, but I might be mistaken. He picked me up and shoved me down the laundry chute on the third floor. I passed out again when I hit my head on the pavement, and that’s all I know.” Kenma picked his gaming device back up and resumed playing.

Asahi was eavesdropping on the conversation and was SHOOK by what he had just heard. Moments after the chandelier fell, someone suspicious threw Kenma down the laundry chute. The chain of events seemed oddly mysterious, but this was a job for Scooby Doo and the Gang, not the Karasuno Volleyball Club. Asahi wanted no part in this; he just wanted to leave the ominous house as soon as possible. The frightened ace rushed over to Tanaka and Nishinoya to relay everything he just heard like a nosy suburban housewife.

The long-haired ace hoped that the information would help convince them to join him on his journey back to Torono Town. He believed they had a better shot at living if they went out in the hurricane and got hypothermia than staying in close quarters with a serial killer. Unfortunately, Nishinoya and Tanaka beamed with energy from the news and were completely fired up to solve the conundrum at hand. Asahi should have known better.

The duo dashed over to the feline setter and bombarded him with questions.

“How tall was he?!”

“Taller than me.”

“Did he look buff?”

“The clothes were too baggy to tell.”

“WAS HIS SECOND TOE LONGER THAN HIS BIG TOE?”

“He was wearing socks. Could you two give me some space…?” Nekoma’s setter requested. Tanaka and Noya’s faces were up close and personal, flaring their nostrils directly in front of Kenma. It was impressive that the blonde could remember all these small details even in his dazed state.

Kageyama, the other setter that caught small details asked “Wait, you said something about the guy saying 'They didn’t find this'... What exactly is 'this’?”

“I’m not sure myself. I assume there’s something in the closet. I don’t really care what it is, but you can go take a look if you’d like.” Kenma answered as he popped Animal Crossing into his DS to check the files.

* * *

Fukurodani and Seijoh’s pair joined Karasuno’s expedition to the mysterious storage closet on the third floor. The only thing they could see was the dried outline of Kenma’s body against the floor and wall.

Just when everyone was about to give up on the search, Akaashi’s keen eyes caught a glimpse of a small compartment at the very bottom of the side wall. It was embedded in the wall and looked to be about half a foot in length. He approached it and turned the tiny knob, only to reveal that it was securely locked.

“I think this is what we’re looking for. We need to find the key though.”

Tanaka chuckled lowly, the crescendo gradually increasing until the bald wing spiker was laughing deviously along with Nishinoya. Everyone turned and directed their attention to the pair, slightly creeped out and wary.

“We don’t need a key. Didn’t you know? Nishinoya spent all of last summer learning how to pick locks!” Tanaka slapped Nishinoya’s back like a proud parent.

“That’s awesome bro! But why…?” Bokuto asked.

“Ukai hides his strongest stash of weed in the bottom left drawer of his office desk, but he has like three locks on it. Me and Ryu wanted a hit of that shit.” Tanaka threw an arm around Noya and fist bumped him, remembering how all their hard work was worth it in the end.

“Yeah, all I need is something small and skinny enough to fit into the lock and I'll pop it open in no time.” Nishinoya grinned.

“Gwaaah, you’re so cool Nishinoya! Teach me how to pick locks too!” Hinata beamed.

Suga bonked the little blocker on the head with his bottle, clearly not a fan of another one of his kouhai turning into a delinquent.

“If you need something skinny and small, then look no further! Tobio-chan’s dick sounds perfect for the job.” Oikawa scoffed. Kageyama’s face flared up red, but calmed down after seeing Oikawa get smacked in the head by Iwaizumi.

“Why don't we split up into two groups and look for something Nishinoya can work with? One group looks for something in the second and third floor, and the other looks on the first floor and basement. It will be more efficient that way.” Akaashi suggested.

Asahi wanted to speak up to make the argument that they would be foolish to break up, as smaller groups make for better prey. The Jesus-like ace had a gut feeling that this was a bad idea, but it seemed like everyone was on board with the plan. Under this roof, they functioned as a democracy and the majority ruled. He only hoped that nothing bad would come of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be on Valentines Day... I cooked up a saucy scene for y'all


	10. He's Not Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oohohoHOHOHO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day!! As promised, here is the update!
> 
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> 
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Through random draw, the two divisions were decided. The group searching the upper half of the house included: Bokuto, Akaashi, Iwaizumi, Nishinoya, Oikawa, and Asahi. Leaving the bottom half of the house to be searched by: Kageyama, Terushima, Kenma, Hinata, Suga, Tanaka, and Yamaguchi. Kuroo was excused, since he was was half handicap. No one really asked how it happened, since it wasn't life-threatening, and no one particularly gave a fuck except Bokuto. The disabled man demanded Tsukishima be his personal nurse for the time being, so Tsukki was also excused from searching duties. Before Kuroo was lugged away by Tsukishima, he warned the bottom group to be _very_ careful of the basement.

“Suga, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Iwaizumi asked. He reached out and held Suga steady; the shorter boy was wobbling dangerously close to the staircase opening. The silver haired boy giggled and placed a hand on Iwaizumi’s cheek. “No it’s okaaay Hajime! Haha that rhymes. Terushima told me there was a WINE cellar in the basement, I can’t wait to see it!”

Oikawa fidgeted at every verbal exchange between the two. He watched Iwaizumi watch Suga descend the stairs sloppily, ready to dash down and catch the intoxicated boy if he tripped. The petty brunet no longer felt sadness when he watched the two, instead he felt boiling rage spread dangerously fast through his veins. Suga was ALWAYS talking to and touching _his_ Iwa-chan... and worst yet, Iwa-chan was allowing it.

Oikawa tailed behind the others who were beginning to search the top floors, stomping away without bothering to mask his feelings. Not long after, Iwaizumi jogged over and caught up to his captain, completely oblivious to the taller boy’s foul mood.

“Do you think I should head down? I don’t think Suga can handle going down another set of stairs like that…”

Oikawa turned and glared at Iwaizumi. Even when that silver haired homewrecker wasn’t here, he was still the only thing on Iwaizumi’s mind. Ah, if only he could get even a _fraction_ of the doting Sugawara received from Iwa-chan; maybe then he could accept being just friends with Iwaizumi for the rest of his days. “Do whatever the hell you want.”

“What’s up with you?” The tanner boy asked. He looked over at Oikawa, slightly irked by his sudden surge of sassiness. His best friend looked paler than usual and a translucent layer of grey settled under his eyes. There was no way someone like Oikawa, who spent a minimum of three hours a day pampering himself, would allow fatigue to show on his pristine skin. Something wasn’t right.

“Oi, Shittykawa what’s wrong?”

God, he had it bad for Iwaizumi. His anger dissipated after one brusque show of concern from the spiker. Oikawa couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Iwa-chan for more than five minutes, so he decided to drop the attitude and make up a generic excuse.

“I’m just tired.” The taller boy sighed. It wasn’t a lie, he really was tired. Tired of Iwaizumi and Suga’s bullshit mostly, but that was something he planned on keeping to himself.

Iwaizumi’s lips curved down into that adorable pout he always did when he was thinking. He suddenly grabbed Oikawa’s hand and pulled him the opposite direction from where the group was headed. “Hey, you guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec.” Iwaizumi called out to the other four boys. A nonchalant grunt signifying both acknowledgement and indifference was the last thing Iwaizumi heard before setting off.

Iwaizumi guided the lighter brunet back into their room, tightening his grip as he picked up speed. Oikawa’s face heated up when he glanced down and saw the beautiful contrast between the tan and beige fingers interlacing together. The weary boy let out a long sigh when Iwaizumi let go of his hand to open the door, and then practically herded him to their bed.

“Oikawa, sleep for a bit. I’m gonna go help the others find something for Nishinoya. Come meet us when you’re up.” 

The brawny wing spiker lit a few candles up so Oikawa could see his surroundings; he was worried that his absent-minded captain would trip over something in his tired state and become even more of a nuisance than he already was. Right as Iwaizumi turned the doorknob to rejoin Bokuto and the others, Oikawa quickly piped up.

“Iwa-chan, if it’s not too much to ask… could you stay with me? I fall asleep faster when you’re here.” Iwaizumi glared at the needy setter who quickly added, “Please? Just for thirty minutes?”

Trashykawa had that stupid fabricated pout on his stupid face, and Iwaizumi _knew_ that if he didn't do what the pasty boy wanted, he’d whine for hours, days, possibly even weeks, until he made it up to him somehow. Most of the time the conflict wouldn’t be resolved until Iwaizumi emptied his wallet on milk bread for the spoiled boy.

“Ugh… you’re so annoying Shittykawa. Fine! Thirty minutes, that’s it. Not a second longer. I won't change my mind even if you cry or bitch after.” Iwaizumi groaned. He plopped himself down on a chair in front of the vanity, and quickly took notice of the frown spreading across his captain's face in the reflection of the mirror. "What. What is it now?" Iwaizumi asked with irritation, a vein beginning to emerge on his temple.

"Oh um... It's kinda weird having you watch me sleep, so I thought maybe you were tired too and we could nap together?" The pale boy traced circles on the bedsheet, focusing his gaze at his index finger as he did so.

"Oi-"

Oikawa interrupted Iwaizumi almost instantaneously. "Never mind, I knew you'd say no. I'll just sleep now, so you can go! You know I sleep the best when you're next to me, but I forgot that you're an insensitive oaf that doesn't care. Good night and goodbye Iwa-chan~!"

Iwaizumi Hajime was now sporting two matching veins on each side of his temples, one of which was on the verge of bursting. 

Now was not the fucking time to be napping, let alone guilt-tripping! There was a potential murderer in the house for God's sakes. But here Iwaizumi was, throwing his shirt on the ground and stepping out of his pants to fulfill the Great King’s request. Once he was in his sleeping uniform, he silently flopped onto the other side of Oikawa without sparing him a glance. Iwa checked the time on his phone to mark when he needed to get up. He had more important things to do than to take an afternoon nap.

The darker brunet closed his eyes and counted the seconds passing by, rather than trying to sleep. There was some shuffling over on the other side of the bed, high pitch squeaks were made from every slight movement on the springy mattress. "You happy now?" Iwaizumi grumbled. There was an unnaturally long pause before Oikawa answered. "Yeah. I am." The taller boy shifted closer to Iwaizumi and molded his body to match the other's. A pale arm found its way around Iwaizumi's torso, making the shorter boy frown. He wasn’t a huge fan of being the little spoon because of his height insecurity, but he wasn’t about to start complaining since Oikawa seemed worn out already. Oikawa had always been the clingy type when they slept together, but something was off this time. Iwaizumi felt an unfamiliar texture on his back, so he tilted his head back towards the lighter brunet only to see that he was in the same attire as him.

“Oi, why aren’t you wearing any clothes? You might catch a cold, idiot.” Iwaizumi scolded. 

“Mmmh, but you’ll keep me warm, won’t you?”

“I’m not your personal heater, at least put on some goddamn pants.” the annoyed ace muttered.

Amazing enough, Oikawa’s health was the first and only thing on his mind at the time. Iwa pushed himself up to a sitting position and saw that Oikawa had thrown his clothes on the floor next to his own pile. Exhausted and accustomed to his captain's problematic antics, he threw his legs over the bedside begrudgingly, ready to fetch the fluffy haired idiot’s clothes like the fuckin’ maid he was forced to be.

Oikawa took Iwaizumi by surprise and clamped his thighs around his waist. Beige hands snaked around Iwa’s sturdy chest before he could stand up. Against his back, he could feel Oikawa’s cold skin prickling against his own; but even more alarming than his best friend’s bare skin flush on him, was the slightly hard knob pressing against his tailbone.

When Oikawa saw that Iwaizumi made no movement to push him off, he lightly traced his long fingers in the crevice of Iwaizumi’s sculpted abs in a tantalizingly slow pace. He ghosted his hands down to the muscular ace’s deep V-cut, which he adored so much, exploring more of the chiseled body before him. One hand traveled up towards Iwaizumi’s chest again, while the other slid down the indent on his hip and lingered around the waistband of the thin boxer briefs.

“Hey… are you feeling sick?” Iwaizumi asked, slightly startled by Oikawa’s unusual actions. He turned around to face Oikawa and held his shoulder at arms-length to look for any signs of illness. He pressed the back of his hand against the brunet’s cheek to check his temperature. _'A little warmer than usual.’_ After a very brief inspection, the only things he noticed that were out of the ordinary were Oikawa’s flushed cheeks, which could have been due to a fever, and Oikawa’s hard-on which could have been due to…?

“Iwa-chan, you take care of everyone too much.” Oikawa held the spiker’s hand against his face and tilted his head, placing a kiss on a knuckle. He flicked his eyes up innocently to see Iwaizumi taking a huge gulp.

“What do you mean…?” Iwaizumi asked in a cautious tone, still not entirely sure what was going on.

Oikawa crawled into Iwaizumi’s lap and wrapped his long legs around his hips once more, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Iwaizumi held eye contact with the chestnut-haired boy, trying not to show any reaction to the erection pressed to his lower abdomen.

“I’m talking about Suga. I saw you two getting real chummy earlier. You’re so busy taking care of him, you don’t even make time for me anymore.”

“He just lost his best friend and boyfriend not even two days ago. What do you want me to do? Brush him off when he’s hurting? I care about him.”

Oikawa frowned at this. Iwaizumi was right. Iwa-chan was being a good friend while he was here throwing a tantrum about not getting enough attention for the past few days. Oikawa knew he had no right to be upset, but he couldn’t help but remember the sight of Suga and Iwaizumi on the couch together. Oikawa leaned in closer and murmured almost inaudibly into Iwaizumi’s ear.

“You let him call you _Hajime_.” 

Iwaizumi's body tensed for a moment when he heard Oikawa call him by his given name in that silky voice of his.

“He was really drunk, so I just let it slide. It’s not that big of a deal.” Iwaizumi retorted. He felt like a married man caught in an affair from the way Oikawa was accusing him, but even to his own ears it sounded like he was spewing out excuses. The pale boy stared into glimmering, emerald eyes with a pained expression.

“You kissed him.”

The way Oikawa said those words and looked at him made him feel like he just stabbed his captain in the back. Iwaizumi almost found himself apologizing to Oikawa without realizing it. Why did he suddenly feel guilty? He hadn’t done anything wrong, so why did he feel like the worst person on the planet right now?

“It… it makes you happy, so I thought it’d make him happy too.” Iwaizumi couldn’t look away from Oikawa’s deep brown eyes. He never noticed how long the lighter brunet’s eyelashes were, each hair fanning out evenly and curling perfectly at the ends.

Oikawa placed both of his hands atop of Iwaizumi’s calloused ones and brought them up to his unmarked shoulders. He waited a moment to see if Iwaizumi would pull away, but there was no resistance from the latter. He continued to gently slide Iwaizumi’s hands down his lean torso, his smooth waist, letting the wing spiker feel each curve and dip on his body. Feel the things that made him Oikawa Tooru and no one else.

“He’s not me, _Hajime_.”

He continued to guide his ace’s hands further south, until they settled on his firm bottom. Iwaizumi almost instinctively gave a cheek a squeeze, but stifled the action to a twitch, which Oikawa didn’t miss.

The enticing setter felt Iwaizumi’s length beginning to grow under his own and smirked. The anxiety Oikawa refused to show steadily evaporated; Iwaizumi's body had always been more honest than his mouth. With newfound confidence, Oikawa held himself steady on defined shoulders and trailed his lips across the ace’s neck.

“Don’t ignore me anymore.” He sighed against caramel skin.

Something inside Iwaizumi snapped when he heard those words fall from his best friend’s lips. He grabbed the back of Oikawa’s head and pulled down forcefully so that his captain faced him. Fierce, green eyes stared into Oikawa’s with intensity.

“I don’t know what the fuck you mean by 'ignore’, I’ve always prioritized you. Always have, always will.” The wing spiker confessed. "There's no one in this goddamn house I care about more than you!’ The words came out his mouth impulsively. The darker brunet was offended that his best friend didn't have confidence in their relati— friendship, when time and time again Iwaizumi proved his loyalty to the pompous boy.

Ever since they were children Iwaizumi put Oikawa’s needs before his. He spoiled the chestnut-haired boy rotten, which probably contributed as to why said boy grew up to be so overbearing. Even when they applied for high school, Iwaizumi put aside his first choice because Oikawa wanted them to be together. He ended up enrolling into Aoba Johsai without a second thought or complaint. He didn’t like to admit it, but making Oikawa happy was enough to make him happy too.

Iwaizumi chose to break eye contact with the setter straddled on his lap and let go of the soft brown locks in his hand. He looked down, only to see that he was fully erect from the minimal skinship between them. There was no question that Oikawa was attractive, but he was still embarrassed that his body was reacting like this to his childhood friend. Iwaizumi raised his eyes in surprise when they met with a small damp spot on Oikawa’s briefs. He looked up at the paler boy in astonishment, just now registering that he was the reason for Oikawa's dripping hard-on.

Seijoh’s captain was practically on cloud nine after Iwaizumi’s bold statement. Those few honest words from his best friend told him that he was special to the spiker, and if that wasn’t reassuring enough, there was also the fact that Iwaizumi’s erection was pressing hot against his own. As if he wasn’t turned on enough, the sight of Iwaizumi ogling at his leaking cock riled him up even more. Losing the will to restrain himself, the Grand King allowed himself to indulge in his desires. 

There was no time to talk; no need to.

Oikawa smashed their lips together without warning, arms wrapping around Iwaizumi's neck tightly, as if he were holding on for dear life. The wing spiker kissed back with the same amount of vigor, his hands squeezing the pliant ass perched on his lap, relishing in the firmness. Their lips molded against each other in fervent unison, like they were finally letting out years worth of pent-up frustration and admiration towards one another. Oikawa moaned into Iwaizumi’s lips and rolled his hips against the hardened member in front of him, pressing their bodies closer together. The wing spiker let out a low groan and pushed Oikawa’s ass towards him, encouraging him to continue his grinding motion while he took the lighter brunet’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Oikawa gasped from the sharp pain, allowing the perfect moment for Iwaizumi’s tongue to plunge into his hot entrance. He licked every centimeter of the wanton setter’s mouth, wanting to taste and savor every flavor his captain had to offer him. While their wet organs were sliding against each other, Iwaizumi pinned the taller boy flat against the bed and mounted him, never breaking the kiss. His left hand made its way down Oikawa’s reddened neck and chest, and settled at a stiffened nub. He pinched and rolled it between his index and middle finger, eliciting sweet moans from the gorgeous setter squirming under him. When his other hand stealthily roamed downwards and palmed at the rigid bulge over minty briefs, Oikawa unlatched his mouth from Iwaizumi’s and let out a loud, lusty whimper. He writhed under the muscular boy’s burning hot body, feeling his ace’s heat disseminate onto his own. When they were flush against each other like this, Oikawa could feel every excited heartbeat thump through the strong ace’s breast.

Iwaizumi wiped his mouth and took this moment to lean back and examine the sensual boy under him. Oikawa was ridiculously beautiful. His lips were a deep shade of pink and swollen (courtesy of Iwaizumi), his silky hair frayed against the disheveled bed sheet under them, and his chocolate brown eyes watched him oh so carefully. This was all so foreign to Hajime; he never saw his captain in this light. Somehow it felt like there had always been this impassioned feeling dwelling inside him when they were alone, behind closed doors.

“How long?” Iwaizumi asked pensively. He looked at Oikawa with a covetous gaze as he waited for an answer.

“H-How long what?” Oikawa was flustered at the sudden question. _'Is Iwa-chan referring to the size of my di-’_

“How long have you felt this way about me?”

“I don’t even know anymore… could have been a couple of months, couple of years, or maybe always.” the taller boy started. He looked at the ceiling past Iwaizumi’s broad figure, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I guess I finally realized it when I got the same crappy feeling in my stomach whenever anyone threw themselves at you. I get that you’re fucking hot beyond words, but seriously, why is your fanclub even bigger than mine?!” There was a line about a mile long full of girls who fancied Oikawa, but Iwaizumi had just about any and every guy ready to give their ass to him as tribute. Oikawa included.

“First it was that turnip shit Kindaichi, then Maddog-chan came back to the team and literally worshiped the ground you stepped on!” the salty setter continued, “and then Teru-chan was all over you after just one glance, and oh! Let’s not forget about sweet Suga...” Oikawa’s face scrunched up in irritation when the memory of Suga and Iwaizumi resurfaced his mind.

“Cute…” Iwaizumi mumbled under his breath, bringing Oikawa back from his sulky thoughts.

“What’d you say?” Oikawa tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

“I said you’re cute. So fucking cute.” Iwaizumi cupped Oikawa’s face with one hand and kissed him gently on the lips. When did Oikawa get so goddamn cute? They basically grew up together, so how on Earth did Iwaizumi somehow miss it after all these years? He suddenly felt a bit guilty for calling Oikawa a dumbass so often. Just a _bit_.

Iwaizumi trailed open mouth kisses further down the alluring setter’s jaw. At the base of the pale neck, Iwaizumi nipped at the skin with his canine teeth, making the milky skin blossom with red marks in his wake. His tongue smoothed over the damaged flesh, soothing the small throbs of pain with wet licks. The wing spiker’s deft hand traveled downwards, and dipped in Oikawa’s waistband. Long fingers quickly tangled themselves in Iwa’s spiky hair and held his head firm.

“Ah... s-stop Iwa-chan…”

Iwaizumi stopped his ministrations immediately and looked at Oikawa with concern.

“Did I get ahead of myself?”

“No! It’s not that, I just…” Oikawa lightly pushed Iwaizumi so that he was sitting up with his back against the headboard of the bed.

“I want to make _you_ feel good.” The lighter brunet kissed the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth and let him feel the devilish smirk spreading on his lips.

His head descended Iwaizumi’s neck and sternum with feather-light kisses. His hands held Iwaizumi secure on each side, supporting his weight as he delved down and swiped his tongue across Iwa’s rock hard abs. Although Oikawa wanted to trace every ripple of Iwaizumi’s muscles with his tongue, he had a _show_ to put on for his ace. He sunk lower, towards the boxer briefs that hardly concealed the tan spiker’s impressive length; the black fabric hugged tight against his erection, leaving little room for imagination.

Iwaizumi looked down at the wavy haired boy in anticipation, while Oikawa glanced up at him with lidded sultry eyes, making sure that Iwaizumi was watching before he continued. Iwaizumi balled up a piece of the bed sheet in his fist, waiting eagerly for the other to continue. The seductive look his captain gave him shot right through his heart, and straight down to his groin.

Oikawa held a steady gaze with the man above him as he slowly mouthed over the giant bulge. Iwaizumi took a sharp inhale through his nose as he watched Oikawa wrap his sweet tongue over his clothed length. The paler boy could taste the salty bitterness through the fabric and sucked lightly until the undergarment was soaked in saliva and precum.

He curled his fingers around the waistband of Iwaizumi’s cotton restraint and pulled them down in one brisk movement, letting Iwaizumi’s erection spring free. Oikawa’s mouth dropped open when he saw the monumental girth that stood before him. He licked his lips unconsciously and gaped at Iwaizumi in disbelief.

“Oh my god...” Iwaizumi was thick. Really thick. His length was above average and a vein adored the underside of his shaft. The bulbous head was reddened and topped with a shimmering bead of fluid.

Iwaizumi lifted his hips off the bed, signalling for the lighter brunet to fully remove the thin fabric. He tossed it somewhere behind him nonchalantly, as his attention was focused on more... _bigger_ things. Oikawa stuck his tongue out and licked one stripe up from the base to the head making Iwaizumi shudder from the direct contact. The brunet swirled his tongue at the tip to swipe off the clear droplet.

“Watch me.” The provocative setter breathed out.

With that, the chocolate eyed boy pushed Iwaizumi’s cock through his plush lips, skillfully taking in half of his length in one swift plunge. His lips curled around his teeth to sheath them while he bobbed his head at a steady pace. With each bob he made, he slid more of Iwaizumi’s length in until his nose was pressed against the hair at the base. Iwaizumi’s cock twitched against the walls of his mouth when he ran his tongue on the underside of his shaft. Oikawa locked eyes with the spiker, not letting him focus on anything but him and his mouth. Iwaizumi’s calloused hands stroked the paler boy’s cheek, feeling himself through the thin layer of skin and flesh. The setter leaned into his touch and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, and filling the room with the most delicious noises Iwaizumi had ever heard.

The muscular boy groaned in pleasure whenever Oikawa did an exceptionally deep dive. He let his head fall back against the headboard, enjoying the euphoric sensation spreading from his nether regions to the rest of his body. Oikawa’s mouth was the perfect amount of slick and hot, sliding over him and engulfing him in wet heat. Never in his life did he imagine the day where Oikawa would be so eagerly swallowing down his dick like this. Now, there was never going to be a day where he _didn't_ imagine it.

The pleasure was driving Iwaizumi insane, he lightly jutted his hips upwards to meet Oikawa’s mouth, desperately wanting him to devour the last inch of his length. Oikawa moaned at the sudden push in his mouth, the sound vibrating directly onto Iwaizumi’s aching member.

“Fuck Tooru…” Iwaizumi huffed. Where the hell was this sinful mouth all his life? Well technically it was always with him, but fuck, Oikawa really knew what he was doing. Iwaizumi decided to push the question of where he learned to do this for another time. He grab a fistful of soft brown hair and continued to lightly thrust into the lighter brunet’s soft lips, allowing himself to get lost in the ecstasy.

Oikawa, having come up with a glorious idea, pulled off of Iwaizumi’s swelling dick with an audible _pop_ , a thin string of saliva connecting from Iwaizumi’s tip to Oikawa’s swollen pink lips. He leaned up to give his blushing ace a sloppy kiss, who didn’t seem to mind tasting remnants of himself on the setter’s devious tongue. Oikawa inched downwards and began littering Iwa’s neck with fervid kisses and nips in between. He made sure to suck hard enough to leave bruising marks; marks that meant that Iwaizumi Hajime belonged to him and _only_ him. 

“Iwa-chan…” 

“Mmh?” The tan boy caressed Oikawa’s flushed cheeks, giving him his attention. Iwaizumi almost couldn’t focus on what the other was trying to say because he was just too goddamn beautiful that it was distracting. 

“Fuck my mouth.” The prepossessing setter panted.

The shorter man nearly had a heart attack at the abrupt command. No need to ask him twice, Iwaizumi was already preparing to get up. _‘Oikawa is going to be the death of me’_ He thought to himself. If his captain wanted him to fuck that filthy mouth of his, who was he to say no? Beyond elated about the promising suggestion, Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa in for one more deep kiss before murmuring a demand against his lips.

“Get on your knees.”

* * *

Iwaizumi tossed a pillow on the floor so it would be easier on Oikawa’s knees, which he knew he had been straining during intensive training. He was standing while the taller boy was kneeling, eye-level with his hardened length.

“If it’s too much or you want to stop, just hit my leg okay? You always push yourself too far, so if I think you can't handle it, we’re stopping.” Iwaizumi’s voice was stern. Even if Iwaizumi was horny out of his mind, he had no intention of hurting his setter.

The fair-skinned boy looked up at Iwaizumi and gave him an acknowledging nod. He let his jaw fall slack and tongue hang out, inviting Iwaizumi in his delectably hot entrance.

Iwaizumi held himself steady with one hand and slowly slid inside the wet opening, relishing in the heat enveloping him. Without a second to spare, Oikawa enthusiastically began wrapping his tongue around the ridge of the head before the tanner boy could set a pace.

One hand twisted in the voluminous brown locks, holding Oikawa’s head stable before Iwaizumi started shallowly thrusting inside his orifice. He studied the way his cock disappeared inside his setter’s mouth, enticed by the pink lips stretching around him beautifully. Oikawa brought his hand up to Iwaizumi’s backside, deliberately pushing him deeper in his jaw, wordlessly coaxing the muscular boy to give him more.

Iwaizumi complied to the wordless request and quickened his pace, ramming faster and deeper. Saliva slid down to Oikawa’s chin, but he continued to obediently swallow down every thrust the brawny ace gave him. Oikawa's periodic moans from particularly deep bobs told Iwaizumi that he too, was enjoying their lewd exploit.

“You’re doing so good Tooru. God it feels so good…” the tanner boy praised in between each roll of his hips.

Iwaizumi proceeded to buck into Oikawa's mouth, relishing in the reverberations of his moans against his dick. The emerald eyed ace looked down to see Oikawa stroking himself in sync with each thrust delivered to his mouth. Oikawa rubbing himself off while shamelessly devouring his dick like it was a 5-star meal was too good to be true. This _had_ to be illegal. _'To hell with modesty'_ Iwaizumi thought. The sight was too much for the wing spiker to handle.

Iwaizumi snapped his hips forward, hitting the back of the lighter brunet’s throat and shred what self-control he had left. Holding out the instinctive urge to cough, Oikawa allowed Iwaizumi to fuck his mouth at a punishing rate. The muscular spiker couldn’t last much longer; the sensation of his cock meeting with the back of Oikawa’s throat repeatedly was downright hellish to endure. Despite the need to gag and the tears forming in his eyes, the beguiling setter took Iwaizumi's pounding like a champion.

Iwaizumi’s stomach tightened and he could feel a profuse amount of precum dripping out of his aching cock. He was close, so dangerously close.

“Shit… Tooru, I’m not gonna last long…” Iwaizumi warned through gritted teeth. He roughly tugged the lighter brunet’s locks, but neither could tell if it was a voiceless command to stop or a silent plea for more. After a few more erratic thrusts, Oikawa pulled back enough to quickly run his tongue on the leaking tip. The paler boy pumped at his own length faster and faster with one hand as he repeatedly stroked his ace’s slit with his wet muscle, sending Iwaizumi right over the edge. A stream of swears and curses left the ace’s lips as he shot thick ribbons of cum inside Oikawa’s waiting mouth.

The immodest setter swallowed Hajime’s seed effortlessly and lapped at the tip to get every single drop. Iwaizumi slid down to the floor, his heart beating out of his chest. He never came so hard in his life; his left hand just couldn’t do what Oikawa’s mouth could. Oikawa’s orgasm followed immediately after Iwaizumi’s; his whole body shuddered as the pleasure of his release washed over him.

“You’re fucking amazing, Tooru.” Iwaizumi panted out tenderly. Oikawa draped his body over Iwaizumi’s and took a few minutes to even out his breathing. The setter’s body was blushing from head to toe and every time Iwaizumi touched him, his oversensitive body flinched. Iwaizumi let his captain rest on his thighs for a few minutes before lifting him up bridal style and walking towards the bed.

“Iwa-chan?”

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

 _'Oh…’_ The hunger in Iwaizumi’s voice made Oikawa’s dick throb in anticipation.

Iwaizumi laid the taller boy on the bed and pushed his legs apart, giving himself a perfect view of his most private parts. Oikawa suddenly wanted to shut his legs; he felt exposed and vulnerable to the spiker’s intense gaze. Iwaizumi positioned himself in between long pale legs and licked his lips.

“You did so good. In fact, I think you should be rewarded for that performance. What do ya think?” Oikawa’s throat was still sore from the vigorous fucking, so he opted for a shy nod. “I know you’re probably really tired, but for now… just let me have a little more of you, okay?” Iwaizumi murmured huskily against the setter’s ear.

 _Fuck_. Didn’t he know that Oikawa would do anything for him if he asked in that deep voice of his? Oikawa was prepared to give Iwaizumi everything; body and soul. He parted his legs even further and lifted his hips off the bed, presenting himself to his vice captain.

“Have all of me, Hajime…” Oikawa breathed out. He was already beginning to grow hard again from imagining what Iwaizumi had in mind for him.

Iwaizumi’s grip on Oikawa’s legs tensed. Oikawa was spread wide open and revealing everything to him, but he had already lost control earlier and knew that he shouldn’t strain his captain’s body any further. “Don’t tempt me like this.”

Iwaizumi hoisted one leg over his shoulder and planted kisses on Oikawa’s inner thigh. He swiped his fingers across Oikawa’s abdomen, coating his fingers in the cooled fluids. He leaned forward and took the lighter brunet by the lips, letting both of their minds focus on nothing but the sensation of their tongues wrapping around each other earnestly. While their mouths were busy, Iwaizumi slipped one hand downwards and spread Oikawa’s cheeks, letting the cool air meet with his exposed hole.

“A-ah! Cold Iwa-chan!” The setter squirmed in Iwaizumi’s hold.

“I’ll warm you up in a sec.”The tawny spiker promised. He brought his other hand down and smeared his semen-coated fingers on Oikawa’s entrance. The setter trembled and instinctively reached out to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck.

“It’s okay, I’ll go slowly.” Iwaizumi cooed. The wing spiker traced a small circle around the tight ring of muscle until the viscid fluid was evenly applied. Oikawa watched as Iwaizumi brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick off the excess. The lighter brunet blushed madly, feeling embarrassed from seeing Iwaizumi tasting him and seemingly enjoying it.

Iwaizumi slowly pushed his index finger through the tight ring, easing in slowly until he was mid-knuckle deep. He cautiously pressed forward and paused when he felt the paler boy twitch from his touch. Oikawa mewled at the unfamiliar feeling and tightened his embrace around Iwaizumi. "I-it feels weird Iwa-chan!" he yelped. "I'm gonna make you feel good in a minute, but just bear with me right now." Iwaizumi appeared confident as he said this, but in reality, this was his first time trying to pleasure a man and he had limited knowledge on the matter. They were both new to this and Iwaizumi was going to make sure that this would be a good experience, if only for Oikawa at the least. The new sensation was foreign to anything Oikawa had ever experienced before, and it frightened him. He writhed in discomfort until Iwaizumi used his free hand to caress the back of his neck. The tawny boy distracted him with fervid kisses as he waited for Oikawa to adjust. Once Iwaizumi could feel the taller boy relax around his finger, he began sliding his digit in and out of the narrow opening at a languid pace.

Iwaizumi was right, he warmed him up again. Oikawa could feel his vice captain, burning hot and grazing against his inner walls. Oikawa felt his cheeks heat up when he locked eyes with the muscular boy hovered over him, intently watching every reaction he had to having his insides explored. Gradually, Oikawa started feeling fleeting rushes of pleasure when Iwaizumi's finger brushed against a certain part in him.

“More Hajime… Put in more.” Oikawa begged.

Iwaizumi smirked at this before squeezing in a second finger inside and pumped them in and out, making Oikawa's hip jerk every so often. “So tight.” Iwaizumi groaned against the taller boy’s collarbone. Oikawa’s insides were searing hot and squeezing down on his digits so desperately. The ace began curling his fingers with each plunge, searching, until Oikawa let out a sudden gasp and nearly convulsed in his arms. Iwaizumi grinned, having found exactly what he was looking for. 

“Right here?” Iwaizumi asked while rubbing his captain’s sweet spot. Instead of replying, Oikawa dragged his nails down Iwaizumi’s back and whimpered with unintelligible words that sounded like "yes" and "more".

Iwaizumi thrusted his fingers in harder and faster, pounding into his captain’s prostate as accurately as he could. The room was filled with squelching sounds and Oikawa’s screams of pleasure. Becoming addicted to the sublime feeling of having Iwaizumi’s unrelenting fingers shattering all sense from within him, Oikawa rocked his hips, effectively fucking himself against his ace’s hand.

“H-Hajime! Do it faster! Please oh _fuck_! I’m so close… please!” Oikawa cried. He felt like his whole body was going to rupture from pure ecstasy.

Iwaizumi hastened the speed in his hand as he leaned in to plant wet kisses on Oikawa’s neck. Iwa’s lips traveled upwards and nipped on a sensitive earlobe, whispering libidinous encouragements in his captain’s reddening ear. The ace used his free hand to stroke the reddened cock between them in sync with his other hand that was vehemently fucking the Oikawa’s ass. Not long after, Oikawa was screaming Hajime's name over and over like it was the only word he knew, as he came in viscous spurts onto the wing spiker’s hand and chest. He continued to pump his hand on the setter’s oversensitive member, milking every single drop out of him as he slowly slid his wet fingers out of Oikawa. The lighter brunet took deep breaths and slumped against Iwaizumi, blissfully exhausted from orgasming twice in the same hour.

“That was good… so good.” Oikawa mumbled. His brain was too muddled from the pleasure to think of more vivid word to describe how he was feeling. The latter only hummed back in response.

Iwaizumi got off the bed and headed towards his duffel bag to clean himself off with a spare towel.

“Iwa-chan… I just realized you never said you liked me back.” Oikawa pouted. After all that happened, doubt still managed to make its way into his mind.

Iwaizumi looked back at his captain with a dumbfounded expression. “I’m covered in your jizz, what more do you want from me?”

He wiped himself down and came back to Oikawa to clean him off too. Once he was done, Iwaizumi pulled the covers over Oikawa, whose eyes were slowly closing with every blink he made.

“Go to sleep, you can barely keep your eyes open. I need to get back to the others and help out. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

The drowsy setter smiled, content with his ace’s answer and closed his eyes. He felt familiar lips press lightly on his forehead before he heard their door quietly open and close.

* * *

Asahi and Nishinoya were the only ones left searching for a tool to lock-pick with in the upper division. Akaashi and Bokuto broke off shortly after Iwaizumi and Oikawa left, to search the second floor… If their definition of “search” meant to lock themselves in their room and do some hanky panky business. Just as the ace and libero strolled past Seijoh’s room, Iwaizumi emerged from the doorway.

The shorter ace was red all the way down his neck and looked out of breath. There was tiny droplets of sweat sprinkled on his temple.

“What's up man? Did you just do a quick work out or something?” Nishinoya jokingly asked.

“Err… yeah, I guess you could call it that. Anyways, Oikawa is tired so let him sleep a while. I’ll go check out the second floor while you guys finish up here.” Iwaizumi replied. The spiky haired ace quickly paced past Karasuno’s pair and descended the stairs.

“Did you catch all those hickeys on his neck?” Asahi quietly asked. With his exceptional height, the bearded spiker was able to see the cluster of deep red blotches scattered across Iwa’s neck as he walked past. Seeing that Oikawa wasn’t with him, Iwaizumi must’ve gave Oikawa a real _‘workout’_.

“I swear to god we’re trapped in a house full of rabbits.” The libero muttered as they continued down the corridor.

Down the hall was a room Nishinoya had yet to check during his quick recon on the first night. Waiting at the end of the passageway was a pair of giant, wooden double doors, its length being twice the size of Asahi. The smaller of the two heaved the door open, but quickly regretted his decision once he did so.

Nishinoya fell backwards completely horrified. Never in his life did the energetic libero show fear, but the sight was too gruesome. A tall, tall wall loomed in front of him, and no it was not Dateko’s blockers. Bookshelves lined the walls and were filled to the brim with all types of vintage literature.

“Nishinoya what's wrong?! It’s just a library it's not that big of a deal!” Asahi said in an attempt to calm his little buddy down. Man, he didn't realize how much books triggered Noya after his horrendous night organizing ecchi mangas with Tanaka. “C-calm down Noya! These books are different from the other ones… they don't have pictures and they're for smart people! They won't hurt you.” Azumane patiently gave Nishinoya a few minutes to collect himself.

Hesitantly, the two teammates made their way through the large doors, closing it behind them as the rotted floorboards groaned with every step they took. Asahi trailed closely behind the smaller libero, looking like a lost puppy who needed to be rescued from heavy rain. Just then, Noya stopped dead in his tracks, startling the ace as he abruptly bumped into the back of the visibly shaken libero. If Asahi wasn’t scared before, he sure as hell was now. Wondering just what his teammate had stumbled upon, Asahi peered over the small body with a hesitant hand covering his eyes. 

“N-Noya-san..?”

“...” The libero didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Asahi tried again.

“Noya say s-something!”

This time Nishinoya responded… with an earth-shattering fart. He let one rip so hard that some of the thicker books had managed to fall off their dusty shelves. Asahi would’ve cried had it not been for him currently choking on (not in the way he liked it) the toxin that now wafted through every crevice of the unventilated room.

“Whoops… sorry bro, must’ve been those raviolis. My diet has been kinda shit ever since we got stuck in this house, hehe.”

Asahi composed himself and followed Noya into a narrow aisle of books with a dull match in hand, though he was debating on whether or not he should be walking in the front. His lungs couldn’t bare to handle another gas bomb from the smaller boy. Every step Asahi took, a few books behind him would drop from the shelves. He flinched with every thud, not turning around but knowing full and well that the falling books were not from his doing. _‘Oh good lord, why did I agree to do this?’_

Asahi silently prayed to each god and deity that he knew of to protect him from whatever was causing the ruckus. As if shit couldn’t get any worse for the pitiable ace, the pathway they took lead them to a dead end.

With no other option, they were forced to backtrack and try another aisle. The skittish ace chose to stare at the ground as Nishinoya led them out in a single-file manner, trying to distract himself by reading the titles of the fallen novels on the ground. Asahi’s heartbeat multiplied with each book he looked at, he noticed that each of the covers had images of long haired men covered in gore. This was obviously no coincidence and the ace nearly went delirious from fear.

“It’s cus’ you guys messed up that séance!! Now look! The spirits are out to get us!” Asahi was hysterical, scrambling to rush the increasingly on-edge libero, whose eyes darted left and right at a breakneck speed. It was dead silent, save for Asahi’s pathetic whimpering, and the guardian deity didn’t like that one bit. Something in the air had definitely changed, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. There was no one else in their immediate surrounding, not even a faint breath to give away the suspect’s hiding spot; and yet here he was, trying to shake off the feeling of someone’s eyes prying at the back of his neck.

**“ROLLING THUNDER!!!”**

Asahi had the air knocked out of him when Nishinoya headbutted him in the gut. He fell over and nearly barfed three days worth of meals all over the young libero from the impact on his overly sensitive stomach. Just as all this was happening, the burly ace felt a small weight lift from his head right as he heard something smack loudly on the wall on the opposite side.

“WHAT THE HELL NOYA?!” Apesahi rarely ever swore, let alone yelled at the younger boy. Shit was already half-dropped out his ass and he nearly died of a heart attack from Noya’s surprise headbutt, the burly ace was in no mood for these pranks.

“You didn't see that knife flying right at you?! It nearly sliced your head clean off man!!” Nishinoya pointed at a cleaver half embedded in the wall in front of them.

“Oh my… I’m so sorry Noya! Y-you saved my life.” Asahi pulled the smaller boy in for an appreciative bear hug, squeezing the life out of him. Noya pat his hands on the back of Asahi’s head and suddenly realized he had not saved _all_ of Asahi.

Nishinoya scrambled backwards and hastily slid his hands across the floor until he found what he was looking for. The shorter boy chanted “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry” lowly over and over while holding something tight against his chest.

“Noya, did you get hurt or something…?” Asahi approached Nishinoya, who was cowering with his back turned to him. “-sahi... I’m really really sorry bro…” Nishinoya continued to whisper heartfelt apologies to the confused ace. Asahi kneeled down to see what his friend was cradling in his hands.

A shrill shriek originating from a 184.7cm man cracked the window glass from the ultra high frequency. The glass-shattering cry was so high-pitched that it was deaf to human ears.

Asahi ran his fingers through his hair only to feel that rather than it being pulled back, it fell straight. Noya kneeled in front of his bulky friend, holding up his severed manbun like it was some sort of offering.

The double doors of the library bursted open and Tanaka rushed in panic-stricken. “What’s wrong?! I heard Asahi do his _'Sonic Screech of Distress’_!” The bald wing spiker’s hearing was exceptional; his auditory perception was on par with a dog’s. He turned his head only to see Asahi’s backside and Noya kneeling in front of him.

“UH… sorry bros, did I interrupt something…?” Tanaka’s body was already half out the door, not wanting to hear the answer to his question. Asahi took a step to the side and faced Tanaka with snot and tears dribbling down his face. Tanaka put his original thought out of mind when he saw that Asahi’s pants were on properly and Nishinoya bowing to the older boy over and over begging for forgiveness.

No words needed to be exchanged when the second year spiker saw a little brown hair bun in Noya’s palm, elastic attached and all. Asahi’s identity was chopped off; “Manbuns” was just a name of the past now.

“Hey Asahi if it makes you feel better… you look good with short hair,” Tanaka offered with hopes of pacifying the bearded ace. “-and if anything... my sis knows a place that has really good weave.” Asahi sniffled his nose and nodded.

“Oh right! I found this paperclip downstairs we can use. Wanna give it a go, Noya?” Tanaka asked, suddenly remembering his earlier discovery.

As if the last five minutes never happened, the young libero sprung up and followed Tanaka towards the exit, tossing the ball of hair behind him like it was garbage. So much for feeling remorseful. Asahi wanted to follow, because the fear of staying alone in the haunted library weighed more than his sadness from losing his _L'Oréal_ worthy locks. After a few more moments of collecting himself, he took a step forward only to be knocked behind the knees, causing him to keel over. Tanaka and Nishinoya both looked back when they heard Asahi’s body drop on the floor, both of their eyes shooting open in complete shock when they did so. There, sitting on top of Karasuno’s ace was a dark figure, holding a metallic barrel to his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shower me in holy water father for I have sinned


	11. If You're Going To Hit It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hit it til' it breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI it gets pretty messy

Asahi could hear Death whispering to him from the side of his skull. The barrel of the gun was elongated with a metallic pipe-like device screwed at the end; a silencer. It didn’t take long for Karasuno’s sophomores to realize that the man sitting on top of Asahi matched the description of the man who tried to get rid of Kenma. He wore ~~a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. Not to mention black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eyeshadow~~ black boots, black jeans and an oversized black hoodie with some poorly placed fashion statement holes on it. No doubt about it, that bummy ass hobo wear was from Yeezy’s fall collection. His face was covered with a black surgical mask while the hood concealed his eyes. Nishinoya and Tanaka stood frozen, not sure what to do, not sure what their best move would be.

After a short stare-off, the unknown assailant reached around to pull a hand-held device from his back pocket, moving it to the front of his mask before breaking the silence with a deep, static-like sentence. “Tanaka… Nishinoya, why don’t you two have a seat.” 

_‘Damn,’_ Nishinoya thought to himself. This creep really thought ahead, even going out of his way to distort his voice. The fact that the cloaked figure even knew their names, already put them at a huge disadvantage. The libero turned his attention towards Tanaka to see a sight that he’d thought he’d never see in this lifetime. The wing spiker was visibly shaken as he got down on his knees, hands raised in front of him as a gesture of submission.

“Please… just let Asahi go…”

The onlooker merely chuckled at the pathetic scene in front of him and turned his head towards Nishinoya, who was still standing resolutely. “I’m sorry, did I make that sound like a question? That was an order.” With the last syllable dropping from his lips, the figure quickly swapped out the pistol for a jagged knife, hardly hesitating as he plunged it through the skin of the ace’s right hand. He gave the weapon a cruel, little twist, opening the flesh even further. Asahi’s agonized screams helped Nishinoya’s knees find the floor as well. Once he saw both Tanaka and Nishinoya kneeling before him, he left Asahi's hand pinned to the ground and reached around, opting for his gun once more.

The pistol was then directed right at Tanaka, causing him to instinctively jump. “Calm down… I just want you to shut the door.” The veiled man said as he waved his gun towards the opened double doors. Tanaka slowly approached the door and debated on booking it out of there, but decided against it since ditching his bros wasn’t something he was capable of. Despite the wing spiker’s rebellious nature, he obeyed and returned to his place on the floor.

“Who are you…?” Nishinoya carefully asked, using his sharp, hawk-like eyes to search for any distinguishing physical features. It didn’t work, given that there were only two candles in the room with the flames the size of peas. A low chuckle came from the threatening man before replying in his distorted voice, “I’ll be the one asking questions here.”

Droplets of sweat formed at the libero’s temple. He tried to think of a way for the three of them to escape unscathed. It was obvious that they outnumbered the enemy; there were three of them and only one shady son of a bitch. He counted with his fingers, just to make sure. The problem was the gun. If Asahi could get the gun away from the stranger, they could gang up on him and beat the devil out of him (A/N: luv u Bob Ross). Nishinoya eyed Asahi in an attempt to silently relay his plan through inconspicuous gestures and a couple of eyebrow wiggles. He trashed his idea after one brief look at the manbun-less giant. The probability that Asahi would be able to take action was equivalent to the chances of Kiyoko falling in love with Tanaka. Asahi was shaking more violently than a vibrator on max setting and unless the candlelight was playing tricks with the libero’s eyes, there was a wet spot spreading at the center of the ace’s shorts. _‘So that’s where that smell was coming from’_. Nishinoya silently thanked any deity listening that Asahi had decided against pulling a number two on all of them. 

“You guys know exactly where Suga is right now?” The peculiar man asked. Tanaka and Nishinoya knit their brows together at the question. It was sudden and more importantly… _specific_. After a pause the man continued, “If I remember correctly, Tanaka you were with him for a little while before you came up. Where is he?”

Tanaka glared at the man sitting comfortably atop of their ace and grit his teeth. Why did he want to know where Suga was? There was nothing in this world that could convince the bald wing spiker to rat out Suga’s location, or anyone else’s for that matter. Snitches were bitches as far as the delinquent was concerned. The man removed the safety on the gun in response to Tanaka’s silence. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“...Tell me why you want to know where he is first.”

“Because I already killed Daichi, so it only makes sense to let them be together, right?” The stranger said as if it were obvious. A vein on Tanaka’s forehead popped from sheer anger. Daichi’s murderer was right in front of him asking for Suga’s whereabouts, all while threatening to blow Asahi’s brains out. Who the **FUCK** did this guy think he was? Nishinoya grabbed Tanaka’s wrist tightly, stopping him from tearing the bastard apart. The second year spiker took a deep breath, glared up at the murderer, and answered, “Before I ran up, he was in the master bedroom.”

Tanaka was taking a gamble right now; he lied to the best of his abilities. Suga was actually in the basement trying to find the cave of wonders that was the wine cellar. If this guy actually knew where Suga was and was testing him... then he failed miserably and Asahi’s life would be the price to be paid for his false statement. He swallowed hard and stared at the shadowy man, trying to appear as confident as possible.

“Is that so?” Was all the man had to say about that matter. Minutes passed without any words or movement made by both parties, the barrel of the gun was still attached to the side of Asahi’s head.

“Uhh, since we aren’t very useful to you… Could you let Asahi go?” Nishinoya broke the heavy silence with his straightforward request. It’d be a Christmas miracle if the portentous man agreed to release the bearded ace and continued on his merry way.

“No.” 

Well of course there wasn’t going to be a Christmas miracle, it was July for fucks sakes. He had to try though. Noya’s first priority was getting Asahi out of immediate danger, after that, he would just have to continue doing what he’d been doing since the beginning. Pulling plans out of his ass.

“Let me trade places with him then.”

Asahi’s eyes shot open and stared at the libero in disbelief, he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more frightened than he already was. How could he suggest something like that?! The heavily clothed man laughed and lowered his gun. “Always playing the hero huh, Noya? That’s right… I almost forgot that you were the one who knew how to pick locks. I’ll take you up on your offer. Come here, and keep your hands where I can see them.” As he finished speaking, the clothed man yanked the knife abruptly out of Asahi’s hand, causing the ace to wince in pain.

 _’How’d he know about the lockpicking thing...?’_ Nishinoya thought.

Tanaka stared at his best friend with his mouth dropped open. Nishinoya stood up and gave Tanaka a reassuring grin paired with a thumbs-up before he put both hands in the air and slowly walked towards the dangerous man. The libero tried to approach as close as possible to at least get a hint of how the guy looked behind all of the fabric, but before he could take a peek, a gloved hand quickly turned him around to face Tanaka while harshly pushing him to the ground. The cloaked man kept his end of the deal and let Asahi crawl back towards Tanaka, who was pulsating with rage.

“Well, the situation hasn’t changed much, so how about we make a deal?” the man suggested. “I’ll let all three of you go, if Tanaka and Asahi can entertain me.”

 _‘Entertain? The fuck does he mean by that?’_ Tanaka pondered. Well either way, it sounded pretty easy and there was a chance all of them could make it out of this scot-free. Nishinoya mouthed to Tanaka to agree, which probably meant that Noya had a plan up his sleeve, or something like that. No matter how the bald spiker looked at it, they weren’t going to lose anything, so like his best friend suggested, he agreed to the covenant. It didn’t cross his mind at the time that the terms were too good to be true.

“I’ll give you three minutes to astound me.”

Time was ticking and Tanaka had yet to come up with an act that would please the suspicious character. _‘How do you entertain a psychopath? He probably won’t like cheap parlor tricks or a few backflips.’_ Tanaka thought to himself. The sands of time were slipping through his fingertips; he had to think hard and fast if he wanted all of them to get out of this mess. Someone as whack as this guy wasn’t going to find joy in things people would normally like. The bald wing spiker wrung every ounce of creativity that was in his peanut sized brain until he had an epiphany. 

_‘There’s no way he’d be into… **THAT** , right??? Oh god no, I can’t do that— But…’_ Tanaka peered over at Nishinoya who was fidgeting on his knees, gun held against the back of his head. That’s right, if it was for Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka was willing to go the distance and do the impossible for him.

Tanaka stood up, eyes devoid of any emotion and slid his hands under his shirt. He revealed his toned 8-pack and threw the piece of fabric on the floor. His gaze was stone cold when he stepped towards Asahi, who looked really nervous and disturbed in return. “T-T-Tanaka… what are you doing?” The bearded ace asked as he crab walked backwards, away from his now half nude kouhai. 

“If he wants a show… we’re gonna give him a show.” Tanaka said ominously before unbuttoning his pants and approaching Asahi, who was backed up against the wall. Asahi involuntarily shrieked when Tanaka got down and forcibly spread his hairy legs from sea to shining sea. _‘C’mon Ryu… distract him for me bro…’_ Nishinoya prayed. The libero had devised a plan that would work if and only if the stranger was completely focused on whatever fuckery Tanaka and Asahi were doing. The moment the stranger dropped his guard, Noya would get the gun away from him and everyone could start kicking his ass. The problem was that Noya couldn’t see behind him, he’d have to guesstimate when the perfect opportunity was. He decided that the moment he felt the angle of the gun on his head drop even the slightest degree, he would swing around and smack the weapon out of the man’s hand.

“What the fuck is this? This isn’t what I wanted to see… Tanaka put your pants back on or I’ll blow you a second asshole.” The stranger threatened.

A live showing of gay amateur porn probably wasn’t his thing. Tanaka scrambled to zip his pants back up and thanked the gods that he was stopped before he did the unthinkable. “Sorry for scaring you like that Asahi, teehee!” The bald wing spiker said in a cute voice all while bonking his head with a fist, winking, and sticking his tongue out the way Oikawa did. Asahi shivered at the thought of what could've happened, but thankfully didn’t.

“Tanaka lay down on the ground, and keep your shirt off.” the mysterious figure suddenly commanded.

Tanaka audibly gulped at this. Maybe gay amateur porn really was his cup of tea, but he wanted the bald spiker to be the bottom instead?! “Yo man… I-I really can’t do this!” Tanaka was panicking like hell at this point. He didn’t want his chastity that he carefully saved for Kiyoko to be snatched by a hairy ape named Asahi. “You don’t get it bro! I’ve been in the shower room with Asahi… his shlong is going to be the **DEATH** of me, DON’T DO THIS TO ME MAN!” Tanaka was begging at this point. He would have tried to imagine Kiyoko using a strap-on on him, but this was Asahi they were talking about right now, and his gorilla dick would snap him into two. No vivid amount of imagination could mask the morbid outcome of this. 

“Shut up, I’m not interested in that. You guys suck. I’ll teach you how to really captivate an audience…”

Nishinoya could hear the man rustling behind him, most likely digging through his satchel with one hand. The gun on his head however, remained straight and sturdy, indicating that now wasn’t the best time for him to act. He had to be very patient. “Ah here we are~”

From Asahi and Tanaka’s point of view, they could see a meat cleaver, which looked very familiar to the older spiker. Asahi’s eyes flickered up at the wall where the cleaver was earlier, the very one that sliced off his key identification as a character. All that was left on the wall was a small fissure from where the knife used to be.

 _‘How’d he get that without any of us noticing?!’_ The burly ace was snapped out of his thoughts when the stranger’s hand lifted above an oblivious Noya’s shoulder. “Wait... W-WAIT!! STOP!!” Asahi screamed as the thick blade came crashing down.

The cleaver sliced off the hairs that prickled down the libero’s arm. Nishinoya tensed his entire body from the sudden sensation of the blade barely scraping past his skin. Tanaka and Asahi had leaped halfway towards Nishinoya with their hearts beating out their chests in that split second.

“Great reaction, you two. See? That’s what you need to get me on the edge of my seat. I need the suspense, the thrill, drama... all of it!”

No one replied so the man continued to talk. “Go ahead and lie down Tanaka. Spread your arms out too while you’re at it.” As if to assert his authority, he slapped the back of Nishinoya’s head with the end of the silencer, causing him to drop to the ground from the ringing pain. “Don’t take too long.”

Tanaka grimaced at the display and laid down in spreadeagle position as instructed. Suddenly the man slid the meat cleaver across the floor to Asahi, who, like everyone else in the room, was confused. What kind of crazy idiot would give a weapon to their hostage…?

“Don’t get any funny ideas, my patience is running thin and I have enough bullets to put two holes in each of you. Pick it up Asahi.” the stranger commanded. Asahi knelt down and picked up the knife, still just as confused.

“Tanaka, you spike with your right hand right?”

_'Oh no.’_

“That’s ok you don’t need to answer, I’ve seen you play plenty of times anyways. Asahi, get a little closer to Tanaka would you?”

_'Please god no.’_

Asahi trudged up to Tanaka with the butcher knife in hand, visibly shivering as he slowly figured out what the murderer had in store for them.

“Just two more paces forward, and… perfect! Stop right there. What a beautiful view.” The man had pinned Noya under him after giving him a concussion. He grabbed a patch of the fluffy brown locks and forced his face up while whispering into his ear, “You get to have the best seat in the house, aren’t you lucky?”

Tanaka was only a few meters away from him. His right arm was outstretched towards the libero; it almost looked like he was reaching out for help. Nishinoya tried to shake the delusional man’s hand off, but his own arms were held down behind his back rendering him useless. The libero had already figured out what the psychopath was scheming, but he was in no position to foil his plans now.

The man sat up straight again and faced Asahi, his next demand making the entire room freeze over.

“Cut it.”

Asahi dropped the heavy blade on the floor and let the sound reverberate throughout the hollow library. “I-I can't do that… There’s no way I could do that…”

“I want his right arm to come clean off in one hit.”

“Wait! Isn’t this too extreme?! Anything… isn’t there anything else you want?!” Asahi cried.

Tanaka glanced over at his best friend, which he wish he hadn’t done. They locked eyes whilst against the ground, each exchanging pained expressions like they already lost, like there was nothing either of them could do. 

“Pick it up, Asahi.”

Asahi’s shoulders tremored as tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. This was so fucked up.

The impatient man slapped the gun against Nishinoya’s head again, this time harder. The libero’s head swung to the side from the impact, his vision blurred from the sudden blow.

**“Pick. It. Up.”**

Nishinoya weakly raised his head back up, eyes still bleary from both the ringing in his head and the fresh blood that was now dripping down his face. “Don’t… don’t do it Asahi. You don’t have to...!”

The libero was awarded with a barrage of jabs for his sudden outburst. The man above him continued to pound on his tiny body, taking out his rage on the poor boy.

“ASAHI! Just do what he says…” Tanaka urged. He couldn't bear to watch Noya get hurt any more than this.

Karasuno’s ace looked at Tanaka with reddened eyes, bent down, and picked up the cleaver once more.

The rain of punches on the small second year finally came to a halt. Noya trembled against the floor, his body was going to be covered in bruises by the end of the night, _if_ he made it until the end of the night.

“If you don’t do it by the time I count down to zero, I’ll blow Nishinoya’s brains out, then it’ll be Tanaka’s turn, and then yours.” the staticky voice declared.

“ASAHI! DON’T DO IT, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS FOR ME.” Nishinoya choked out.

_“Five.”_

“JUST RUN FOR IT, YOU GUYS DON’T NEED TO DO THIS!” He himself was already beaten up half to death, Asahi and Tanaka leaving him behind would be the best case scenario.

_“Four.”_

“T-Tanaka, I don’t think I can do it... I can’t do this to you.” Asahi whispered through his strained breathing.

_“Three.”_

Tanaka looked up at Asahi, who was crying his eyes out. If the older man couldn’t make the decision, Tanaka would.

“Look, I can spike with my left hand too! He’s gonna kill all three of us if you don't do it Asahi!” Tanaka urged hectically.

_“Two.”_

“Asahi... bro. J-Just... Just do it.” He reached his right arm out even further, involuntarily trembling and flinching at every little movement Asahi made. Despite his body language, Tanaka encouraged the older spiker with a calming voice. “It’s better this way. It’s okay.”

_“One.”_

Nishinoya continued to scream desperately for them to get away. With his ears pressed hard against the floorboard, he suddenly heard someone… no… multiple people coming up the steps. Someone must of heard all the ruckus and was coming up! They just needed to stall a little longer, just a few more seconds… 

But they were already out of time.

_“Zero.”_

“I’m sorry.” Asahi gritted out as he heaved the knife down as hard as he could right where Tanaka’s clavicle met his shoulder joint.

**“RYU!!!”**

The sound of the cleaver tearing into Tanaka’s shoulder would forever traumatize the libero who was forced to watch everything. The wing spiker screamed incoherently on impact, quivering violently in agony. The knife sunk halfway into his flesh and blood had gushed out of the wound and onto Noya’s face. Tanaka’s blood-curdling cries filled the entirety of the house. He tried his best to take it like a man, but the pain was too much to handle. Asahi apologized over and over as he jerked the knife out of Tanaka’s body. He had only penetrated the first few inches of flesh because the bone stopped the momentum of the knife.

“That was magnificent! But his arm’s only half off, and I said I wanted it done in one strike.” The man cocked the gun and placed his finger on the trigger.

Nishinoya used every ounce of power in his small body to try and free himself from his confines, but his efforts were futile. He shut his eyes tight and prepared himself; his last prayer was for Asahi and Tanaka’s safety.

_**PANG** _

The muted sound of the bullet pierced through Nishinoya’s ears. That was weird. Noya didn't feel a thing; maybe death really was as peaceful as people portrayed it to be. 

“NISHINOYA! GET TANAKA SOME HELP! HURRY!” Asahi yelled at the top of his lungs. A fresh hole in Asahi’s left shoulder was oozing out blood and trickling down his arm. The long haired ace swung his right fist into the veiled man’s face and slapped the gun out of his hand. Nishinoya took half a second to process what the fuck was happening. He was alive, Asahi was fighting the demented guy, and Tanaka was just about dead. The man recovered quickly and tackled the tall ace onto the ground. The libero scrambled on his feet and quickly ran over to Tanaka, who was still writhing in pain and threw him over his back. “Asahi! I’ll come back! Just hold out for us man!” Nishinoya called out while running as fast as he could out the double doors.

“I NEED A DOCTOR HERE DAMNIT!” Nishinoya hollered. With the corner of his eye he could see Tanaka’s right arm dangling off his body. A tear of regret rolled down his face, as he desperately called for help. Bokuto ran towards the libero with only his boxers on and Akaashi followed in suit wearing nothing but a makeshift blanket toga.

Bokuto met with Nishinoya halfway and saw his bloodstained face, along with Tanaka’s dislocated arm. “Hey, we heard some noise so— Woah, holy shit, what happened to you two?!” Nishinoya didn't bother answering, he was already turning his back to pass Tanaka to Fukurodani’s ace. “Get him help, Bokuto! Please! I need to get back to Asahi!” The moment Bokuto took Tanaka off his back, Nishinoya was sprinting at full speed back to the library. Halfway through the corridor leading to the double doors, he heard the _thump_ of a body dropping against the floor.

Most people would stop dead in their tracks or turn tail at the sound, but it only spurred the small boy to run faster, push harder. 

_'Please be okay Asahi. I’m coming back, so just... please be there.’_

Noya slammed the double doors open, feeling the pit of his stomach drop when his nostrils were pervaded with the unmistakable stench of gore. “Asahi! Where the hell are you?!” Nishinoya was almost in a fit of hysteria as he stumbled around the darkness of the library. It didn’t help that the candles had all been blown out. 

After a few more steps, the prolonged silence was mercifully broken when the libero's ears caught the sound of labored breathing and coughing, coming from the right side of the room. Nishinoya pulled a lighter from his pocket and ran towards the general area of the noise. When the dim light of the flame revealed the outline of Asahi laying on the floor, Nishinoya felt a wave of relief wash over him. The libero tripped over himself in his excitement and ended up crawling towards the wing spiker in his hurry.

“ASAHI!! Thank god! What happened to the guy?! Didja get him? I gave Tanaka to-”

_splosh_

From under the touch of his palm, Noya felt something warm and slippery. He shone his light down to reveal streams of red running down from between his fingers. 

“Wha..?”

Turning his palm around, he discovered that his hand was clutching onto something soft, pink, and tube-like. The fleshy material slipped out of his trembling hand with a fluidity almost like water spilling down the edge of a table. As it hit the floor with a disgusting squelch, a low moan emitted from Asahi, who still had his back turned towards the libero in a foreboding manner. Nishinoya paled as he realized where the smell from earlier was coming from. 

With quivering fingers, he lifted his lighter to find that the soaked tube led right up and over Asahi’s turned and shaking midriff. 

“Ngh-noyya… is that y-you….?” The voice sounded like a garbled mess.

Against his instincts to turn away, Nishinoya kept his eyes onto Asahi’s form as he pulled at his friend’s shoulder to finally see his face. He really shouldn’t have done that. The wing spiker’s mouth was painted messily in crimson, blood freshly seeping out of a large gash in his stomach, where his entrails had been crudely pulled out from. 

“A-Asahi...!!” Nishinoya began to grab at the intestines that were strewn across the floor in a wild manner, shoving the organ against the massive laceration in vain.

“I’ll save you- W-we’ll save you!! The others will be here any minute now... We can get a first aid kit– it’ll be okay…!!” Tears began to flood down the libero’s face as he himself, couldn’t believe any of the words coming out of his mouth. 

Asahi reached out and weakly grabbed Nishinoya’s arm. “....saw…….him…,” Asahi managed to mumble out between the libero’s rough handling of his guts. Nishinoya shot his head up at this, staring at Asahi with wide-eyes. “WHO?! Who was it?!” He slid his hand off Noya’s arm and into the pool of his own blood. With the last of his strength he managed to draw two strokes onto the ground with his index finger before his hand flopped down.

Noya stared at Asahi’s final message in confusion before returning his attention back to his friend who began to cough up more blood, presumably to clear his throat.

“H-hey...”

“I’m here bro, what do you need?!”

“Noya… Tanaka...”

Nishinoya was addled. “Tanaka? He’s with the others, it’s just me here Asahi...”

“You guys… why won’t you say anything?” 

It took Noya a couple seconds to process what Asahi had just said, before the realization hit him. His friend was already too far gone and Noya couldn’t help but weep even harder, knowing that Asahi thought he was alone during his entire suffering.

“Hey, say something… it’s too quiet...”

“Asahi. I’m here. I’m here bro,” Noya croaked out weakly, as he cradled Asahi’s head in his arms. That was when he felt the absence of Asahi’s breathing. He was gone.

Iwaizumi came running in with a flashlight in hand merely seconds after Asahi's departure. “WHAT’S GOING ON? Bokuto didn’t give me the details but I came as fast as I could!” The tan ace dropped his flashlight in shock when he saw Nishinoya's clothes soaked in his comrade’s gore.

“He saw him.” Nishinoya said blankly.

“Saw who…?” Iwaizumi asked.

“He saw him.” The libero repeated.

Confused, Iwaizumi approached the bearded ace’s motionless body, eyes widening when he caught sight of Asahi’s body and blood-stained digits.

Smeared onto the wooden floorboard was a small red letter _**‘T’**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tragic." -Kim Kardashian West
> 
> btw who caught the "My Immortal" reference?? lol


	12. The T is Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your patience, please enjoy my hot garbage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some content in this chapter is from the two chapters I previously deleted and I apologize for my long hiatus!!

Iwaizumi watched Karasuno’s libero cry violently atop of the dead body with unblinking eyes. He burned the image into his brain; the pool of blood slowly stretching itself towards his feet, Nishinoya’s soaking red shirt, and Asahi’s opened eyes that lacked the luster they once held.

Daichi’s death could have passed off as an accident, but this? This was no accident. Asahi Azumane was the second victim of cold murder.

Nishinoya’s sobs soon attracted the attention of others. Hinata and Kageyama were the first to arrive, with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima following almost immediately after the volume of the crying doubled. Of course Yamaguchi joined the sob fest not long after, while Tsukki stood and took in the scene before him.

“I-Iwaiz-zumi-san, _*sniff*_ how did this h-happen…?” Kageyama huffed, trying his darndest to talk over his hitched breathing.

“I don’t know… he was already gone by the time I came. Both Asahi and the person who got him. I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi looked at his kouhai and lowered his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

The setter merely nodded and turned away. He wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. 

Eventually the room was filled with the house guests, with the exception of Akaashi and Bokuto, who were busy tending Tanaka’s injuries. Gasps, tears, and screams came accordingly when each unwary person came and saw the gore firsthand.

Iwaizumi was the first to break the silence. “Sorry to be insensitive at a time like this, but now that everyone is here, can we talk about th-”

“Not everyone is here. Someone is missing.” Kenma said. His eyes scanned the room as his lips silently mouthed the numbers counted. “Sugawara is not here.”

The hairs on the back of Nishinoya’s neck stiffened at Kenma’s observation. Cold sweat began to form when he remembered that the masked assailant asked about Suga’s whereabouts just moments before he butchered Asahi.

_‘Shit!!’_

“Suga’s in trouble!” The libero sprung onto his feet and charged with more urgency than he ever felt in his life. His legs failed Asahi once before, but he’ll be damned if they failed Suga too. As soon as the speedy volleyball player crossed the entrance doors, he slammed face-first into something that was peach, grey, and red all over. 

“Ow… what the–” 

Nishinoya’s jaw dropped in disbelief when he saw Suga lying on the floor, drenched from head to toe in crimson. He scrambled towards the scarlet body with shaky legs. “S-Suga..? No, not you too!”

With the same hands that held onto Asahi’s lifeless body no more than a few minutes ago, Nishinoya scooped up his senior’s body all the same and hugged him tight. His hand felt sticky in the silver locks, and the pungent smell of blood was… kind of fruity?

“MmmmMmhH… iz that u Sookishimuh? When didja’ dye your hairrrr? Looks pret-tee bad on ya’! Yurr legs look kinda short tew, dis iz wat u get fur not eating yer dam vegetals!” The very alive and very drunk setter slurred out. He gave Nishinoya a playful ruffle on the head before struggling to stand up; a scene similar to that of a newborn giraffe in the Serengeti Plains.

“S-Suga-senpai! What happened to you!? You’re covered in b-blood!!” Yamaguchi squeaked.

“No Yamaguchi, that’s not blood. It’s-” Nishinoya started.

Suga gave his arm a small lick. “Itzza _Château Lafite_ ,” he smacked his lips twice and paused, “Tastes like a 17... a 1787.” Everyone stood in awe before the professional wine taster. It’s not often that you find someone that can taste the exact age of luxury wine.

“What about here?” Terushima pointed at the drunken boy’s cheek, bringing attention to a blotch of red that was clearly more dark than the rest of his body.

“Oh thiz? Yah dats jus blood, hahaha!” 

The faces around the room turned grim.

“Itz not mi blood! There wuzza big bug in da basement dat tried to take mah wine away,” Suga whined. His pouting expression quickly turned into a stoic one. “So I took its life away.” Kuroo’s jaw dropped just thinking about how someone as cute and drunken like Suga could single-handedly kill a beast that nearly mauled him alive. He was a fool to underestimate Suga. Wine was the equivalent of steroids to Karasuno’s alcoholic. 

“That’s besides the point! You were busy showering yourself in booze while Asahi was killed!!” Nishinoya shouted in rage, all too soon before realizing his mistake and slapping both hands over his mouth. 

“Huh?”

Almost pitying Suga’s naïvety, Tsukishima bluntly filled his senior in on the details. “He was killed. Probably by the same person who murdered Daichi.”

Suga said nothing in response. With not only one, but two people dead, to say that the atmosphere wasn't tense was like saying Suga clearly didn't need rehab.

* * *

Akaashi and Bokuto entered the library after treating the worst of Tanaka’s wound. The smarter of the two performed the most ratchet operation known to mankind. With their limited supplies, Akaashi was left with no choice but to substitute sanitary wipes with toilet paper soaked in the last of his _Germ-X_ hand sanitizer, and had to settle for covering his hand with _Ziploc_ bags instead of latex gloves. There was also the problem of having no narcotics or anesthesia at hand, so the next best thing was for Bokuto to punch Tanaka out of consciousness (possibly without consent). Fukurodani’s setter reattached the baldy’s arm with a shit ton of stitches from the thread of Bokuto’s unwashed shirt and casted the whole thing up. Luckily no tendons were severed and this was a fanfiction, so with due time, Tanaka's arm would be fully functionable again.

The concept of “Expectations vs. Reality” took Fukurodani’s setter by surprise when he processed the sight before him. From his limited knowledge on the situation, Asahi was either **a)** gravely injured, or **b)** dead. Since one of the two had to be the case, he concluded that he and Bokuto would be met with a morbid atmosphere. However, that was a deduction that resulted from common logic, and Akaashi forgot that logic didn’t really apply to anything in this house. Instead of another anticipated makeshift funeral, there appeared to be some kind of trashy bar fight occurring between Suga and Terushima. Suga was holding a broken wine bottle by the neck and threatening to stab Terushima with it, all while Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kageyama were desperately trying to hold him back.

“GYET OFF ME YA PREPUBESCENT BENCHWARMERS!! HE KEELED DAICHI, AND NOW ASAHI! HE GON’ GETTUS NEXT!!”

“Suga p-please calm down..! Let’s talk about this first!!” Hinata pleaded.

“Yeah, what the fuck’s your deal?! First I give you a bottle of fine wine, then you chug the whole thing without sharing it, and then you try to SHANK me with it?!?!” Terushima seemed more upset with the fact that he missed out on a good bottle than being accused of murder.

Akaashi sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Koutarou, please handle Sugawara-san for now.” Bokuto immediately set off to his task while Akaashi cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, but what is going on?”

“Well, Suga saw that,” Kuroo pointed onto the space next to Asahi’s body where an inconspicuous letter **“T”** was smudged onto the floorboard, “... and lost his shit. Yeah, that pretty much summarizes it.” Kuroo shrugged.

“My, that was a better explanation than I expected out of you, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi said, his voice void of any amusement. He stared at the ceiling with narrow eyes.

“Let’s think this out carefully. If Asahi was trying to write the name of his murderer, then first, we need to come up with a list of everyone whose name starts with a letter ‘T’.”

Fukorodani’s setter grabbed a pen and paper from a nearby desk and wrote down as follows:

> 1\. Kuroo **T** etsurou  
>  2\. **T** sukishima Kei  
>  3\. Oikawa **T** ooru  
>  4\. **T** erushima Yuuji  
>  5\. Yamaguchi **T** adashi  
>  ~~6. **T** anaka Ryuunosuke~~  
>  7\. Kageyama **T** obio

Tanaka was a victim in the incident, therefore exempting him from the list of potential culprits.

“Uh first of all, why did you put my name down? Second of all, there’s only one person who calls me by my first name, and it only happens in bed!” Oikawa griped. Tsukishima wondered if it was the suspicion that made Oikawa upset, or the fact that Iwaizumi would only call him intimately during their throes of passion.

“I understand why you are upset Oikawa-san, but we cannot take any chances with this matter. I have included everyone that Asahi’s clue may concern.” Akaashi replied.

Terushima scoffed and glared at Fukurodani’s setter with bitter eyes. “That’s easy for you to say, since that would put you and your boo thang in the clear. Maybe it’s not a ‘T’, maybe he died before he could finish writing-”

“-or maybe he thought of titties right before he died. We’ll never know.” Kuroo added.

“That’s exactly it. We don’t know and we will never know, because Asahi is dead. So for now, keep it in mind but do not dwell over it.” 

The way Akaashi stated that made it very clear that this was the end of the discussion. There was no stopping the rousing suspicion and no end to the possibilities, so he left Asahi’s final message open for interpretation.

* * *

The commotion left everyone in a state of despondency. Fortunately for Akaashi, this created the perfect chance for him to slip away with Bokuto. He hadn’t had alone time with his sweetheart in nine dreadfully long hours. They were drained, covered in blood from the shoddy operation, and of course, still horny out of their goddamn minds.

Worn out from accepting yet another death in two days time, Bokuto was left in a daze and absent-mindedly followed his boyfriend, who was leading him somewhere by the hand. He blinked twice before realizing that he was no longer in the library, but in front of the bathroom. 

“Where’re we goin’ ‘Kaashi?”

“I’m covered in Tanaka’s blood and Hinata’s tears, as are you. I think we both need to get _cleaned up_.” Akaashi said. The last bit came out extra velvety, in an attempt to emphasize his intentions.

Alas, the beautiful setter’s first mistake was believing that Bokuto Koutarou could pick up a subtle hint. Innocent to the point of stupidity, Bokuto offered a handkerchief with Fukurodani’s insignia embroidered in the corner. Akaashi #1 thanked him for the kind gesture, but Akaashi #2 cursed him from inside his pants. Too stubborn to give up hope, Akaashi tried again with more resolve. 

“Thank you Bokuto-san, but I was thinking it would be faster if I jumped in the shower… what do you think?” 

By the power of all the seductiveness invested in him, Akaashi channeled a single gaze directed at his boyfriend. The amount of sensuality poured into it was enough to get even a man pregnant. Akaashi’s lidded, oceanic blue eyes showed nothing but raw desire for the robust ace. 

Bokuto had never been the sharpest pencil in the box, but luckily for him, Akaashi was a patient man. The owl captain’s brain might as well have been on lunch break with how long it took him to process Akaashi’s sentence… and were those fingers he was counting?! Akaashi massaged the bridge of his nose and questioned his patience.

“O-oh yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll uh, grab your towel and conditioner then.” Bokuto said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

 _'Akaashi’s giving me bedroom eyes... but we’re headed to the bathroom… Err...?’_ Akaashi could see his half-baked boyfriend trying very hard to put 2 and 2 together. He tried to be patient, he really did. But this was getting physically painful to watch. He was a busy man; he had things to do, places to be, and dicks to ride (Well, just Bokuto’s).

“Do that, and then I want you to join me in there afterwards.”

To make sure there were no more misunderstandings, Akaashi tilted his face until his mouth was a hair’s breadth from his boyfriend’s ear, allowing his warm breath to slightly dampen the outer ring of the appendage. Bokuto could only gulp at the setter’s minimal, yet extremely effective actions. 

Asides from the motion of his chest heaving up and down, there was only one other part of his body that was creating any movement and he’d rather not say which. With the rambunctious owl seemingly overwhelmed, Fukurodani’s vice-captain began to whisper sweet temptations into his ear. He took care in ending the exchange with a glide of hot tongue over the shell of a teased ear.

“...Got it?” Akaashi breathed out.

Bokuto’s fried brain could barely form any coherent words so instead, he nodded eagerly in response. The ethereal setter sauntered off towards the bathroom, leaving a flush red owl standing alone in a daze. 

* * *

Bokuto tried his best to mask his excitement when he entered the bathroom with Akaashi’s towel and toiletries. From the entrance, he could hear the running shower and make out a blurred silhouette in the steam. Everything fell out of the burly ace’s hands the moment he entered the dingy room and saw that Keiji was already undressed and preparing himself, softly gasping from his own touch. His eyes disregarded the fact that the tub behind Akaashi was filled to the brim with blood and the overall mustiness of the setting, only focusing on the divine figure posed before him. He failed math and just about every other subject during the past semester, yet he was able to memorize every muscle and birthmark on Akaashi’s supple skin. Despite how many times he’s seen the beautiful setter in his birthday suit, it always felt like an invigoratingly new experience.

Succumbing to his primal side, Bokuto rushed into the fog and practically mauled Akaashi’s lips without warning, pushing him up against his still clothed chest, the latter scrambling to find hold in the form of a warm T-shirt. 

“W-wait!” the flustered setter managed to pant out, before Bokuto enclosed his mouth once more, lapping against his tongue like a starved beast. He pulled his fingers out hastily in order to hold himself steady against his feverish captain. Underneath the corroded shower head, in the shroud of the steam, Akaashi found himself entranced by electrifying, golden eyes.

Once Akaashi got a real good look at his captain’s face, the blush threatened to deepen. The water had pulled the usually spiked, owl-like hair down into dampened, straight locks, effectively transforming Bokuto into the literal definition of “sex-on-legs”. Keiji hoped the cascade of water concealed the fact that he was drooling at that moment.

“Koutarou,” Akaashi’s eyes had a certain glaze over them, the huskiness of his voice increasing by the second, “Get out of those clothes. Now.”

The silver-haired captain had no complaints, biting down at the hem of his shirt in order to maneuver out of it easier, his crossed arms pulling it over his spiked hair. Next, he kicked off his sweatpants and boxers, finally freeing his excited member from its cotton restraint. Right as the clothes met the wet tiles, Akaashi intertwined his hand around the back of Bokuto’s head, and melded their lips back together in another heated kiss, tongues dancing wildly against one another. Only a few seconds passed before the setter threw his head back to exude a guttural moan, a string of saliva falling towards their pressed chests. Bokuto took it upon himself to further stimulate them both, wetly sliding his erection against the other’s as he nipped and sucked at Akaashi’s defined jawline.

Akaashi felt like he was melting in Bokuto’s grasp up until the warm droplets of water suddenly turned into icy needles. The sudden change in temperature made Akaashi’s body jerk instinctively. Still, there was no force that could make Akaashi release Bokuto, be it fire and ice, or a shitty pipe system.

_“Ah!”_

Impressively, Bokuto was not the least bit phased by the freezing water, he was far too engrossed in his beautiful lover. Fukurodani’s captain pushed Akaashi away from the water, towards the tiled wall of the shower cubicle. He made sure his arms were wrapped securely around his vice captain to act as a buffer between his back and the icy surface. Despite the fact that freezing water was currently pouring down his back, he continued ravaging Akaashi’s swollen lips. Bokuto was so swept up in the moment that he could care less if it was liquid nitrogen or molten lava dripping down his back. All he could focus on was the sensation of Akaashi biting his lower lip and rubbing his hips cordially onto him. 

“K-Kou! We’re under time constraint… we have to make this quick.” Akaashi warned. The setter was disappointed by his own words, but he knew all too well that now was the worst possible time to be having sex; or maybe it was the perfect time for it. _‘Who knows, who cares.’_ For once, Akaashi didn’t know the answer.

Bokuto let out a dejected sigh and pulled the shorter boy flush against him. “Okay, got it.”

The spiker’s calloused fingers traced down the indent of Akaashi’s spine and stopped abruptly when he realized his grave mistake. Disdainfully, he flicked his eye back over his shoulder and spotted the bottle of conditioner laying on the floor right where he dropped it. Opened and streaming down the drain. 

_‘Dammit!’_ Although questionable, Bokuto wanted to try and use it as a substitute for lube. He prayed that things would somehow work out and that Akaashi would tolerate being more uncomfortable than usual during this particular rut.

Just when all hope was lost, the owl captain’s prayers seemed to have been answered in the form of an exquisite little bottle of body oil, sitting conveniently atop the soap dish. Like Kuroo always said, _‘when there’s a will, there’s a way’_ , he slapped together his palms from behind Akaashi and rushed a quick thank you to the lords above. It was only then that Bokuto realized the owner of the improvised lube. There was only one person in this accursed house that smelled like _Tropical Peach Bellini™_ , and that person was none other than Oikawa Tooru. Neither he or Akaashi were close to the pompous brunet, but he had an emergency on his hands! Oikawa would understand right?

Too engrossed in the moment to think of the consequences, Bokuto grabbed the bottle and squeezed almost every expensive liquid ounce of it onto his digits and slid his hands down to the cleft of his boyfriend’s ass. 

“Koutar- _oh!_ ” The increasingly frustrated setter cried out as he felt a digit encircling his entrance, smearing something oily around his rim before suddenly plunging inside of him. The finger probed a bit, pressing deeper and curling in a familiar pattern that had him gasping. Akaashi bit down on his arm, his muffled moans still clear as day to Bokuto’s ears against the pitter-patter of droplets, egging Fukurodani’s captain on.

“Good?” Bokuto crooned into the shorter boy’s ear. Akaashi’s moans and fidgeting were more than enough of an answer to the owl captain’s question, but there was a sense of accomplishment when Akaashi verbally praised him.

“So good…” Akaashi hummed back appreciatively, letting his head fall back and basking in the blissful feeling spreading throughout his body. “But I’ve already prepared before… hurry up and _put it in_.”

Bokuto could only gulp from his boyfriend’s unabashed request. The sensation in between Akaashi’s cheeks had his legs feeling like _Jell-O_. The setter fell forward into his ace’s chest, shifting most of his bodyweight onto him. This didn’t hinder Bokuto however, his muscles weren’t just for show after all. The tanner boy slowly slid his fingers out of Akaashi all while enjoying the view of his gorgeous setter mewling and moaning against his collarbone.

At this point, Bokuto was the only reason why Akaashi could still stand upright. The pleasure was turning the setter’s bones into spaghetti; to make things easier for the both of them, Bokuto lifted the ravenette with ease and pinned him against the wall. Bokuto drank in his vice captain’s lascivious cries as he kissed his open mouth and tangled their tongues together once more. After a few moments, something _much_ thicker and heavier pressed up against his now loosened entrance.

”Can I?” Bokuto huffed breathlessly, rubbing the head of his cock teasingly at the edge. He was already slathering the remainder of the oil onto his shaft as he asked.

From what Akaashi could see through half-lidded eyes, Bokuto’s irises were blown out from what he could only assume was lust. His cheeks were tinged with a light shade of rose as he took in unbalanced, shuddered breaths. There was no way the setter could say no to that deliciously desperate look his captain was searing onto him. Wasting no time, Akaashi answered by sinking his hip down to take in the head of his captain’s cock, causing Bokuto to throw his head back; a silent gasp leaving his lips. The vice-captain hissed through his teeth at the pain that entailed.

“A-Aghh!” 

Sure, he was loosened beforehand, they did a decent job of that, but three fingers had nothing on the massive girth he was currently taking. Bokuto halted Akaashi’s descending hips the moment he heard him scream, fighting the urge to thrust up into the heat encasing him. 

“Slow down ‘Kaashi,” Regardless of how amazing it felt to finally be inside Keiji, the last thing he wanted was for the vice captain to be in pain. Bokuto laxed his grip on the shorter boy’s hips and slowly lowered him, stopping every few inches to let his boyfriend get used to his intruding length. He studied the way Akaashi’s face contorted in pleasure, eyes shut tight with droplets of water rolling off his long, dark lashes.

“I’ll be gentle.” Bokuto cooed into the nape of the setter’s neck, tightening his fingers onto slender hips once more, as he eased his hips slowly upward. Akaashi closed his eyes, feeling his walls beginning to tear a bit in order to accommodate. He pushed in at a mind-fuckingly slow pace, perhaps for worry of breaking his precious setter. But Akaashi wasn’t having any of that. He was hardly porcelain.

The setter pushed back on his own, taking in the final inch whilst biting down on his lip from the wave of hot pain, “I c-can take it– _haah..._ ,” He arched his back even further, simultaneously giving his captain a better angle and view. “Go as fast as you’d like...”

 _“Please.”_ The dazzled setter begged. The lust and sheer _need_ in Akaashi’s voice was apparent, and Bokuto didn’t have it in him to continue his gentlemanly act. 

Bokuto shuddered at his vice captain’s words and started up a sedated pace before gradually building momentum, fucking harder and faster into Akaashi. The silver-headed boy ran his teeth and tongue gently over the setter’s neck, the water from the shower diluting the familiar taste. The taste of the addictive drug that was Akaashi Keiji.

Akaashi could only shiver in anticipation as his hips gyrated in tandem with Koutarou’s unrelenting pace. When he was about to push back in, Akaashi met his hips with a slam, a pleasured rasp ripping from both their throats at the suddenness of it all. His actions earned himself an earnest moan from above, teeth finally breaking skin as Bokuto bit down onto the side of his neck, driving his member extra deep inside Akaashi and keeping it there. A mixture of a scream and moan streamed out of the vice-captain’s mouth. Being fully sheathed for the first time was painful, yet at the same time, enjoyable for Fukurodani’s vice captain. He felt impossibly full; not only physically but on an emotional level as well. Akaashi crossed his legs around Bokuto’s waist, wanting to pull their bodies even closer together, though the feat was impossible. 

“Agh!! Kou!” Akaashi wrapped his arms around his neck and used his broad shoulders as leverage to ground himself into his boyfriend. The setter’s hips began to sink up and down onto the intruding member, matching Bokuto’s merciless pace, his back arching beautifully against his lover’s chest. “Like tha- _ngh_... j-just like that,” Akaashi could barely get his thoughts together, the pleasure wracking both body and mind when Bokuto started to hit his prostate at “that” angle. Over and over, he would feel closer and closer to the edge, only to be cruelly ripped away from it when the length inside him disappeared as quickly as it came.

Bokuto slowly pulled back and slammed his cock back in at an angle that knocked the wind out of Akaashi. The raven-haired player squeezed his legs and arms tightly around the muscular ace’s back, as he cried incoherently into the air. The owl captain’s demeanor had transformed into something quite feral and Akaashi loved every second of it, clawing his captain’s back at every rough plunge into him. His own leaking member would brush against the tensed abs pressed up upon him, bringing absolute bliss to his aching body. 

Bokuto’s amber-gold eyes glowed with absolute hunger. He carefully watched every tendon of muscle on Akaashi’s body tense and relax with every touch, the way the licentious setter panted out pleas for more with every roll of his hips. Anything and everything Akaashi did was indescribably sexy.

Bokuto knew it, Akaashi knew it, any creature with working eyeballs knew it.

Akaashi’s breath constricted even further when he felt Bokuto’s ridiculously hot tongue begin to roll around a perked nipple, all while moving to wrap his free hand around the setter’s standing cock. He moved his hand in rhythm with every time Akaashi’s searing hole would fully engulf his arousal. The endeavor didn't last for long with how tight the setter had become from being overstimulated. Releasing his hold on Akaashi’s dripping erection, Bokuto brought both his hands down to Akaashi’s asscheeks and gave them a hard squeeze.

“Hold on tight.” Was the only warning the ace murmured before bucking into Akaashi with all his might.

“Kout- _AH!!_ ” 

Bokuto fucked the words right out of him, his mind blanking from the captain’s wild thrusts. Akaashi knew he wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate, a familiar sensation of tightening along his stomach being a tell tale sign of his hot climax quickly approaching. Bokuto didn’t have any easier of a time controlling his thoughts either, feeling his release coming at any moment. His hips were pistoning with reckless abandon at this point. To hell with keeping a steady pace! Akaashi was in his arms moaning like it was his last fuck on Earth and it was driving Bokuto nuts. 

“Kou, I c-can’t!”

Bokuto couldn’t even hear his lustful setter crying about his impending orgasm through the sound of wet skin smacking against each other. The loud slapping from Bokuto’s pounding paired with Akaashi’s moans of pleasure echoed against the bathroom walls, filling the room with nothing but sounds of their lovemaking.

Akaashi could no longer hold back, what with the overstimulation of practically all his senses on top of being ravished by Bokuto in every way possible; he came harshly against the spiker’s stomach as well as the wall in short bursts. Riding the waves of the pleasurable high that followed, Akaashi could hardly keep a grasp on Bokuto as he was still being mercilessly fucked into.

Akaashi opened his eyes slightly, the glow from the climax evident on his face. He flashed a tired grin at his lover, while his body continued to bounce from the stark mad rhythm the owl captain was currently struggling to keep up. Fukurodani’s captain produced a low, lengthy moan as he yanked down on soaked, dark locks to kiss the satiated setter’s open mouth, giving a particularly deep thrust. He groaned deeply, his taut stomach twitching as he emptied his load of hot cum into the deepest parts of Akaashi. The ace gave a couple more rolls of his hips to ride out the last of the pleasure, before pulling out gently. Akaashi, who was numb from head-to-toe, could only feel his captain’s chest heaving heavily against his own as they both steadily slumped down to the marble floor. 

Akaashi slid an affectionate hand on to Bokuto’s cheek and watched him through his naturally lidded eyes, his intense gaze making the tanner boy feel self-conscious. At this distance the setter could see every hair follicle and pore on Bokuto, making the ace wonder if he had something on his features from the way Akaashi was staring at him.

“Did I get some on my face?” Bokuto nervously chuckled.

Akaashi’s eyes stayed fixated on his face with his dreamy post-fuck expression. “No, I was just thinking that no one can make me feel as good as you do.”

They laid together on the floor, kissing lazily without a care in the world as the mist enveloped their naked forms. They continued this for a few minutes, treasuring their private time together. A time where they didn’t have to worry about who to trust, who killed who, and why such terrible events had befallen them. In intimate moments like this, it was the only time they were freed from such burdens. 

The couple properly washed themselves together in the shower; Bokuto helping clean the mess he left inside of Akaashi, and Akaashi soaping off the accumulated sweat from their slippery activities. The owl pair dried off and got dressed quickly, already worried that they may have taken longer than expected for their little rendezvous.

* * *

Nishinoya slipped out of the library under the pretense that he was going to see how Tanaka was doing and headed towards Bokuto and Akaashi’s room on the second floor. He cracked the door open a margin before slithering in when he confirmed that Tanaka was the only one in the room.

The realization of the situation hit the libero when he saw his best friend in bed with suture materials laying all around his unconscious body. Blotches of red were beginning to seep through the bandages on Tanaka’s shoulder.

Nishinoya couldn’t help but feel angry; angry at the miscreant who killed two of his closest friends, angry at Asahi for deciding things on his own, and angry at himself for being completely and utterly useless. Just when things seemed hopeless, it was their ace that saved them. That was how Asahi was; despite being the biggest coward in Karasuno, he always came through when the team needed him most.

 _'No. No crying, there’s no time for that damn it!’_ If there wasn’t any time for tears, then there was obviously no time for breaks either.

Nishinoya swiped his runny nose with Tanaka’s shirt and whispered a quick “sorry bro” before getting to work.

Noya quickly reached in the wing spiker’s jersey pocket to pull out the paperclip he had found earlier that night. The shorter boy pulled the blankets back over him, making sure it looked exactly the way it did before he came. Nishinoya slipped out of the room and ascended the steps to the third floor as quickly and quietly as he could. He took a peek around. _‘All clear.’_ Most of the crowd dispersed, and those who were still loitering in the library were immersed in their clean-up duty. Nishinoya took long strides to the storage closet at the ideal moment and quickly shut himself in the suffocating room.

He whipped out his phone, using what was left of his battery to illuminate the wall-embedded safe with the low brightness screen. He quickly fumbled out the paperclip with his free hand and used his teeth to bend the piece of metal into an L-like shape. He placed his hand flat against the steel box and didn’t feel the texture of dust under the pads of his fingers. The fresh fingerprints on the handle of the safe didn’t go unnoticed either, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking about the small details. He pressed his ear against the safe and frantically shoved the malleable stick into the tiny slit of the lock and switched off his phone, working blindly in the darkness. 

Vibrations against the floorboards told Nishinoya that people were coming closer. The libero desperately wiggled the little contraption, internally screeching when the footsteps were close enough to be audible.

_‘Come on!! Work with me, damn it!’_

Noya let out an excited gasp when he heard a small _click_ and felt a small twitch against the paperclip. He wasted no time opening the safe and used the last percent of his phone battery to see what had been mysteriously stowed away.

A stifled gasp slipped through Nishinoya’s lips when he saw the all too familiar gun sitting dead at the center, speckled on the side with dried blood. Asahi’s blood.

A typed note was left on top of the deadly device. With shaky hands, Noya picked it up and read it carefully.

 

> _To Nishinoya-kun,_
> 
> __
> 
> _I thought the least I could do was give you a keepsake to remind you of our wonderful time together. Will be seeing you soon._
> 
> __
> 
> _XOXO,_  
>  _T._
> 
> __
> 
> _*P.S. Use it wisely… ♥_

 

Nishinoya hastily inspected the contents of the weapon, opening the magazine to find a single bullet in the cartridge. He quickly shoved the gun in his pocket just as his phone finally died. 

Nishinoya spent the next hour sitting in the darkness, keeping a hand over his pocket; his chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support and encouragement!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Bless anyone for their kudos and leave a comment letting me know what you guys thought!!
> 
> If you want to send in fanart (my favorite kind are the ones made on MS paint) or look at the crappy pics me, my editor, and intern(s) made, check out our tumblr. :^)
> 
> http://beefy-bokuto.tumblr.com/  
> I follow the tag "gccm"


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